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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889212">Between Blurred Lines</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatAwkwardFaeNerd/pseuds/ThatAwkwardFaeNerd'>ThatAwkwardFaeNerd</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Celtic Mythology &amp; Folklore, Domestic Fluff, Fae &amp; Fairies, Fae Courts, Fae Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood), Fae Magic, Fae are Weird, Fantasy Politics, M/M, Magic, Mythical Beings &amp; Creatures, Mythology References, References to Norse Religion &amp; Lore, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:55:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,727</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889212</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatAwkwardFaeNerd/pseuds/ThatAwkwardFaeNerd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's cold on the day Hiccup is married. After thousands of years of conflict, there can finally be peace, but now he is marrying a creature he has never even seen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>195</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. In which a wedding happens</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first fic on this website, so hopefully you enjoy it! A handful of chapters have already been written at this point and are undergoing the editing and beta-reading process. With any luck, chapter two can be posted within the next few days. Thank you if you've read this far, and I sincerely hope you enjoy this strange little AU of mine.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s cold on the day Hiccup is married. Frost crunches beneath his horse’s hooves, and icicles glitter on the otherwise immaculate banners and decorations. He breathes shakily through his nose, and a cloud of steam escapes into the sky with each exhale.</p><p>
  <em> Clink, clink, clink. </em>
</p><p>He can hear the rattling procession.</p><p>
  <em> Clink, clink, clink. </em>
</p><p>Louder and louder, the closer they get to that accursed spot.</p><p>
  <em> Clink, clink, clink. </em>
</p><p>The field is nearly bare, still shaking off the last dregs of winter, but flowers bloom on every table, chair, and trellis. One can almost ignore how they keep changing color. The crown of daisies atop his own head jingles merrily with every step.</p><p>There are eyes everywhere—in the trees, in the grass, in the sky, even in the folds of guests’ clothing. A particularly brave sprite has nestled itself in the swathes of Astrid’s cloak, and only time will tell how that will turn out. Another is settled underneath the twins’ chairs; <em> that </em> is definitely a recipe for disaster.</p><p>The procession marches all the way to the altar. That, at least, was normal, maybe even traditional. They are the first to approach it. As Hiccup slides off his horse, the frozen grass crunches underfoot, only to be swept away a moment later by his trailing cape.</p><p>He’d said it was silly. His father said it was tradition. His father, as usual, won.</p><p>There is no officiant. There will only be him and the creature he is about to marry. Marriages for their kind are… different, if he recalls correctly. More sacred.</p><p>More <em> binding </em>.</p><p>His father touches his shoulder, and Hiccup turns to him with nervous eyes. The man smiles, though Hiccup could see his anxiety in the way his eyebrows turn. </p><p>“Deep breaths, son,”  he reminds. “Just like we practiced. They’re not that different from us, just…” He searches for a word for a moment or two, then gives up and squeezes Hiccup’s shoulder. His expression is firm, but not unsympathetic. “It’s for peace. The first we’ll have in centuries.”</p><p>“For peace,” Hiccup repeats, and he keeps repeating it under his breath as his father takes position at his side. <em> For peace, for peace, for peace. </em></p><p>If this is for peace, why does it feel like he is going into a warzone?</p><p>His question is answered by the arrival of the second procession. Arrival is a very loose term for it, Hiccup thinks. It looks more like the group has just… appeared, like they are being woven into the tapestry of reality after the loom has already been cast off. His spouse-to-be is at the head, his mother just behind.</p><p>It’s the first time Hiccup has laid eyes on him. Jack is a glory in silver and blue, shining in the early morning light like a star plucked from the night sky. He catches Hiccup’s eye across the field, and a cat’s smile spreads across his face. Even from that distance, Hiccup can tell he has too many teeth.</p><p>As Jack slides from his horse—Hiccup is quite sure that it is <em> not </em> a horse, but has no idea what else to call it—the rest of the procession files into empty seats and trees and cloak pockets. His bridegroom glides down the aisle, never once taking his eyes off Hiccup’s. The closer he gets, the surer Hiccup is that he has no pupils. A train of glittering ice trails behind him, momentarily freezing everything he passes over. Hiccup looks down: Jack wears no shoes.</p><p>“You are taller than expected,” the fae quips once they are face to face. The tiny creature has to crane his neck to meet Hiccup’s eyes, standing as close as they are. He barely comes up to Hiccup’s shoulder. </p><p>Hiccup coughs and looks aside to avoid that unnaturally blue gaze. “Y-You are, uh… shinier? Than expected?” Luckily for him, Jack laughs, but his hands still feel like talons as they hold Hiccup’s.</p><p>“A very roundabout compliment, my prince.” Hiccup doesn’t like the way he said <em> “my” </em>, like the word was a candy he was particularly savoring. “But one I accept nonetheless.”</p><p>Shiny isn’t the word for how Jack is. He looks like a finely crafted statue brought to life, something too perfect to ever be naturally born. He moves gracefully, but every part of Hiccup feels tense as Jack keeps staring up at him. A crown of frozen roses decorates his hair, scattered with sapphires, opals, and pearls.</p><p>He’s <em> beautiful </em>and seems all the more off for it.</p><p>The vows go by faster than expected.</p><p>“I, Crown Prince Hiccup Haddock III of Berk, hereby promise…”</p><p>“I, Jack, Fifth Heir to Winter and Wielder of Twinetender, hereby promise…”</p><p>The exchange of rings, however, seems to take an eternity, despite the ring bearer taking barely thirty seconds to arrive. Hiccup had forged them himself, poured and polished and engraved them with runes all by hand. They feel heavier than he remembers, and even more so when Jack takes the one meant for Hiccup and kisses it. </p><p>Jack’s hands are cold. The ring frosts over the second it is on his finger, and the runes seem to glow blue beneath the ice. Hiccup’s stays golden, but feels like a manacle as Jack places it on his finger.</p><p>He has barely a second to reorient himself before Jack laughs, grabs him by the ears, and pulls him down for a fierce, biting kiss as the crowd politely claps. Hiccup can’t hear them over the ringing in his ears and the feeling of Jack smiling against his lips.</p><p>They face the crowd together, hands joined, and everyone claps again. Jack’s fingers slide between his own and squeeze tighter, until Hiccup can feel the needle-sharp points of Jack’s nails against the back of his hand. </p><p>The grip doesn’t loosen even as they walk down the aisle together, their respective parents following behind. It doesn’t loosen as the entire party moves to the center of town and the massive festival begins. It doesn’t loosen as they take their places at the head table. Jack even pulls their joined hands into his lap and smiles a bit too wide when Hiccup gives him a questioning look. Hiccup doesn’t look at him for a while after that.</p><p>It would be at least half an hour before they were joined by their parents; it was traditional to give the newlyweds time alone at the high table. Well, as alone as one could be during a royal wedding. Even when a group of servants comes by to set plates of decadent sweets and richly spiced fish before them, Hiccup feels frighteningly isolated. Jack doesn’t even touch his food, and Hiccup is unsure if he himself will be able to stomach anything. </p><p><em> This </em>, more than vows, more than the kiss, is what he had feared: the first meal.</p><p>He can feel Jack’s eyes boring into him, just as cold and piercing as his nails in Hiccup’s skin. They are supposed to talk, according to tradition. Get to know one another in the way a married couple should. But what does one even say to a creature that looks at them like a wolf looks at an injured rabbit?</p><p>“Uh, wh-what’s… what’s your favorite color?”<br/>Hiccup winces. What was he, a toddler in the castle nursery? Of all the questions in the world, that is what he settles on? He chances a look in Jack’s direction, only to find the fae smiling even wider than before. No lips should stretch that far, but apparently no one had told Jack that.</p><p>“Blue,” he answers in a low, content purr, his eyes narrowing into content slits. “Although…” He grabs Hiccup’s chin with icy fingers and pulls him downward, until they were as eye to eye as they could be without snapping Hiccup’s spine. “...I have recently acquired a liking for <em> green.” </em> </p><p>Hiccup turns a vivid sunset pink and makes a noise similar to that of a mouse caught beneath a lion’s paw. “Th-Th-That’s, uh, th-that’s nice?” His voice is barely a peep even to his own ears, but Jack’s already intense gaze only brightens before releasing him. Hiccup jerks back upward and gingerly touches his chin. The skin is still tingling from cold, and he can’t help but imagine what his hand will feel like once Jack sees fit to release it. The chill likely won’t fade for hours. Still meeting his eyes, Jack raises their joined hands to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of Hiccup’s knuckles. His lips leave a shimmering, icy imprint behind, and it melts almost instantly against the heat of Hiccup’s skin. Hiccup feels its tingle long after it fades. </p><p>“Do you have any more questions, husband?” Those blue, pupil-less eyes stay fixed on him, and Hiccup swallows when yet more teeth enter his smile.</p><p>“Wh-What <em> are </em> you?” he whispers. He jerks backward, his eyes wide. “O-Oh gods, that d-didn’t come out right, I-I’m so—” He’s interrupted by Jack’s laughter.</p><p>“I am your husband,” he hums. He tightens his grip on Hiccup’s hand, and Hiccup is sure now that those needle-like nails will leave marks in their wake. He tilts his head, and his smile widens even more. “Nothing else matters.” Hiccup opens his mouth to protest, but Jack is already looking away. “Ah, the cake is here.”</p><p>Sure enough, a mixed troupe of humans and fae was carting in the mountainous confection the castle chefs had no doubt spent days perfecting. Hiccup didn’t even want to think how much flour and sugar went into its creation, but all the stops were pulled out for royal weddings. Especially, he supposes, when they had fae on the guest list. Jack, Hiccup notes, only looks mildly impressed at best. </p><p>He manages a smile for the servants who bring them their slices, and he tries to ignore the possessive way Jack’s nails dig into his skin. Looking down at the piece of cake, covered in edible flowers and decadent icing, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stomach one bite. Then they’re alone again, and Jack is once again staring at him rather than the food. Hiccup wonders if he was perhaps gaining sustenance from the staring alone, then decides not to think too hard on it. Gods knew his mind took him down the worst of paths some days. <br/>“You—You look lovely,” he compliments timidly. He glances at his groom, then back at the cake in front of him. “That gown looks wonderful on you.” It’s a genuine compliment, albeit an anxious one. Jack’s dress is all shimmering lace and flowing silver, decorated with the same sapphires adorning his crown. It fits him well, which Hiccup supposes is the whole point. He can see Jack watching him out of the corner of his eye.<br/>“Your words are appreciated,” the fae hums. He grasps Hiccup’s chin again, turns him to face him, and meets his eyes with the same cat-like smile he’d had at the altar. “You are also rather dashing.” He doesn’t give Hiccup a chance to reply before he’s pulling him down into another kiss. </p><p>It’s brief, but no less biting than the one they’d shared under the wedding arch. Jack bites Hiccup’s bottom lip, then sucks it into his mouth as if to soothe it. Hiccup is embarrassed to admit he whimpers into it, the press of Jack’s cold lips almost burning his skin. He has never felt fairy dust, doesn’t even know if it exists, but if he had to imagine it, he would guess that it felt like being kissed by Jack. Tingly and sharp, warm despite the ice in his breath, with a departing nip that leaves a hint of blood on Hiccup’s bottom lip. Hiccup takes a deep breath the moment Jack releases him, but even the rush of oxygen doesn’t keep his head from swimming. Jack laughs at the sight and reaches up to adjust Hiccup’s daisy crown, which had slipped over his eye when he pulled away. He pats Hiccup’s cheek afterward, and his touch does nothing to help the red flush spreading down Hiccup’s neck.</p><p>He misses Jack taking his first bite of cake, but he doesn’t miss the way Jack’s eyes grow wide and brighten the moment the dessert hits his tongue. Jack hums like a well tuned harp and takes another bite, and Hiccup would almost say it’s cute if it wasn’t for the talons still digging into his hand.</p><p>“Tia is an excellent chef,” he says as Jack decimates the rest of his slice. “She’s made all my birthday cakes since I was born.” This, at least, is a topic he could handle. Food is safe, relatively speaking. Jack makes another happy harp sound and finishes off his slice, and when he eyes Hiccup’s piece, the prince obligingly slides it over. However, to his surprise, instead of digging in like he had with his own piece, Jack scoops a single bite onto his fork and holds it up to Hiccup’s lips. </p><p>Hiccup’s eyes shift from the cake to Jack’s face and back again. The fae is <em> smirking </em> at him, of all things. He isn’t sure what there is to smirk about, but he swallows down his questions and, hopefully, his anxiety. It’s just cake. Human cake, even. This is his husband, who has sworn not to hurt him. And yet, Hiccup’s stomach flips. </p><p><em> It’s a harmless gesture, </em> he reminds himself. Newlyweds feed each other all the time. There’s nothing to fear. He opens his mouth to tentatively accept the morsel, and he doesn’t miss the way Jack’s eyes stare at his lips with predatory focus. No sooner has he swallowed than Jack is holding up another forkful, which leaves a hint of frosting at the corner of Hiccup’s lips when he takes it. He has barely noticed it when Jack is pulling him down into yet another sharp, tingly kiss.</p><p>Jack licks his lips when he pulls away, and Hiccup flushes even darker. If this is going to be a trend, he isn’t sure how he would survive. The breathlessness alone is sure to be a killer. </p><p>Point apparently made, Jack turns his attention away from Hiccup and to the crowd of dancing fae. A treaty had been made ensuring that no humans would be harmed or whisked away during the wedding, but it seems as if the human guests were hesitant to trust it. After centuries of conflict, Hiccup could understand why. Even with the alliance now solidified, it would take time for any trust to form. If it even could. </p><p>“Dance with me.”</p><p>Hiccup jerks out of his thoughts and stares at his husband with his mouth agape. “Huh?” Jack is already getting to his feet, and with his unwavering grip on Hiccup’s hand, he has little choice but to follow. </p><p>Jack grins at him over his shoulder, his eyes glittering even more than his icy crown. He pulls Hiccup onto the cleared out courtyard turned dance floor and pulls him closer. “Dance with me.” He places Hiccup’s hand at his waist and sets his own at Hiccup’s bicep, as close to his shoulder as he can manage. Hiccup swallows heavily as glittering eyes meet his.</p><p>“I-I’m afraid I’m a bit of a lousy dancer,” he admits. “Two left feet.” Any hope he has of escaping is dashed when Jack scoffs.</p><p>“Nonsense,” he says, his nose wrinkling incredulously. “Your appendages are set in the correct order and without duplicate.” He sniffs and starts pulling Hiccup into the dance, sending him fumbling for the steps as Jack sets a pace that should be too fast for the music. </p><p>The world seems to slow down as they move, and Jack’s hand on his bicep squeezes slightly as they glide across the cobblestones. Sure enough, Hiccup is less than coordinated, but with Jack leading, he doubts they will look anything but graceful. </p><p>“It’s a, uh, figure of speech,” he says once they’ve settled into a rhythm. Jack shoots him a questioning look, and Hiccup coughs and looks away before Jack’s eyes can burn holes into his skull. “Two left f-feet, I mean. It, um, it means… that I’m, uh, bad at dancing.” Jack pulls him even closer, so they’re almost chest to chest, and Hiccup can see the way his perfect brows furrow slightly as he thinks.</p><p>“You humans are strange,” he says after a moment of deliberation. “Stating obvious untruths, not wishing to dance or eat. You are puzzles.” He laughs and meets Hiccup’s eyes, quite the feat considering he has to bend nearly backwards to do so. “I quite enjoy it.” The music swells around them, and Jack tucks himself against Hiccup’s chest. Hiccup wishes his heart would slow down, if only so Jack won’t hear it pounding in his chest like an exuberant drum.</p><p>Jack has at least gotten his fill of conversation, it seems, because the rest of the dance is spent in silence, other than Jack’s laughter whenever he goads Hiccup into lifting or spinning him. He’s lighter than he looks, like he’s filled with feathers rather than flesh and bone. Honestly, Hiccup is unsure about the flesh and bone as well. By the time Jack decides they are done dancing, his feet and back are aching, yet it feels like hardly any time has passed at all.</p><p>When he looks up, the evening lanterns have been lit and Jack is leading him back to the head table, where his father and the Winter Queen await. His empty stomach clenches, and despite having nothing to retch, he feels distinctly like he might throw up. Nonetheless, his groom settles into his chair, and Hiccup has little choice but to do the same. His father’s hand seeks out his knee under the table, and Hiccup untenses a little at the warm, distinctly human contact. His left hand is numb.</p><p>In fact, he can feel his entire left side growing numb. The Winter Queen radiates cold in the same way a bonfire radiates heat. Jack seems unaffected, as her son and a Winter fae himself, but Hiccup is left shivering.</p><p>“Just the speeches left,” his father murmurs in his ear. “Then you can leave. I’ll send Violet up with dinner.”<br/>Hiccup sends his father a grateful look, and the king squeezes his knee once before rising to his feet and calling for attention.</p><p>“We gather to celebrate the making of history,” he calls to the crowd. They all fall silent at his voice, and a million eyes turn to the head table. “Today, we have peace. Today, two realms become one!” The guests all cheer, from the lowliest sprite to the highest noble. Stoick claps a hand onto his son’s shoulder, and Hiccup winces at the weight. <br/>“It is with great pride that I see my son and heir married,” he continues. “May the gods look upon this union and bless the new couple!” More cheering. Hiccup is getting quite tired of cheering; the back of his head is starting to pound, and he’s unsure if it’s the noise or the lack of food. Stoick gestures to the Winter Queen as he sits, and she rises with the slow, easy grace of one used to her throne.</p><p>“I look forward to an age of peace and prosperity between our peoples,” she says with a voice like the slow movement of a glacier. She is hardly louder than a whisper, but Hiccup knows, somehow, that even the furthest observer will hear her perfectly clearly. Her one eye gleams beneath waves of snow white hair, and she looks down at Jack with the same too wide smile he has. “There has been conflict for thousands of years, longer than even one such as I would care to remember. I am eager to see changes that none of us would have dreamed of.” She laughs, just once, and it echoes like thunder through the courtyard. A shiver runs up Hiccup’s back. Hopefully, Jack would not come to sound like that.</p><p>The Queen sits back down, and Stoick shouts, “May the celebrations go on!” The musicians apparently need no encouragement; they begin playing before the words are even fully from Stoick’s lips. Hiccup sighs softly, his shoulders slumping. All of a sudden, his shoulders and eyelids are heavy as boulders. Jack chuckles beside him and gets to his feet.</p><p>“It would appear my husband is ready to retire,” he murmurs, and Hiccup is vaguely aware of his father agreeing before he’s being pulled to his feet and guided away from the party. They make it halfway to the castle before Jack is pressing against his side. His face almost seems to glow in the light of the moon and lanterns.</p><p>“You will have to guide us to your chambers,” he says, quieter than Hiccup assumed he could be. “I am unfamiliar with your palace.” Hiccup blinks down at him a moment before his words fully absorb.<br/>Right. Jack had never been to the castle before. He didn’t know how to get around. Hiccup resists the urge to groan; at this point, all he wants is to fall into bed and forget the whole night ever happened. Jack is solid and cold at his side, however, so as long as they were to share a bed, Hiccup doubts he could just forget. Whether he liked it or not, the wedding had happened.</p><p>Hiccup’s eyes fly open. Wait. Wedding. Wedding night. Night, in bed, with his new husband. Hiccup looks down at his groom with slowly dawning horror. He knew, logically, that an heir would need to be made eventually, but did Jack expect it now? He doesn’t think he can do it; even thinking about it made his stomach flip and clench. He’d thought he was too tired to be anxious, but apparently not.</p><p>How would Jack even react? Hiccup would like to think he’d take it well, but they had known each other for mere hours. There is only so long he can put off that conversation, but he pushes it away for now. Focus on getting to bed now, worry about what happens in bed after. Jack raises an eyebrow at him, no doubt confused by his long silence. Hiccup turns red all over again and starts pulling him towards the castle. </p><p>“Right. Chambers. Tower. Th-This way!” If Jack notices his stutter, he doesn’t say anything, and Hiccup can at least be grateful to the gods for that small mercy.</p><p>Hiccup is unfamiliar with the majority of the castle, but the way up to his tower he knows by heart. He didn’t go there often, but there was only one path, so it wasn’t hard to memorize. He pulls Jack through corridor after corridor, past halls lined with tapestries and rooms lit only by starlight. He doesn’t even hear the fae’s footsteps behind him as they go, and it takes more self control than he would like to admit to keep from looking back to make sure Jack is still there.</p><p>The winding staircase up to Hiccup’s quarters is lined with lanterns, no doubt lit in preparation for his escape. Hiccup sends a quiet thank you his father’s way and guides his husband up, up, up. </p><p>“Your chambers are very isolated for those of the Crown Prince,” Jack comments about halfway up the stairs. “I would expect them to be more central.” Hiccup chuckles weakly and keeps his gaze forward.<br/>“Yeah, well, that’s me. Constantly unexpected.” He can practically feel Jack readying to ask another question, and he’s never been so happy to see his chamber door. </p><p>“This is it!” he squeaks as he pushes it open, and Jack hums softly as Hiccup pulls him into the large, round room. The hearth is already lit, a tray of food set on the table by the sofas. The mounds of books scattered on every surface make placing things difficult, but luckily nothing has been disrupted this time. Hiccup releases Jack’s hand and makes his way to his wardrobe. He tries to flex the warmth back into his fingers as he takes a nightgown, but apparently the chill was there to stay.</p><p>When he turns, Jack is sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him. Hiccup squeaks and nearly drops the nightgown, just barely managing to catch it in his surprise. Jack chuckles and tilts his head. His eyes shine in the dim light like a cat’s.</p><p>“I am not here to devour you,” he murmurs, his voice a teasing lilt. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, exposing the smooth, pale expanse of his neck. “I have no wish to bed an unwilling partner.”</p><p>All the breath escapes Hiccup in one fell swoop, and he leans against a nearby armchair to keep from slumping over entirely. <em> Thank the gods, </em> he thinks, a tad afraid to say it out loud. Jack laughs, though, as if hearing it regardless. </p><p>“I am your husband, not your executioner,” he teases again, and Hiccup lets his shoulders relax a little bit more. The exhaustion falls back onto him like an old coat, weighing him down almost enough to knock him to the floor. A yawn escapes him before he can help it, and Jack chuckles again. “Get changed and come to bed, husband. We can discuss more after you wake.”</p><p>Hiccup wasn’t one to argue a point he wholeheartedly agreed with, and soon enough he’s falling under the covers and into the darkness of sleep. Just before he falls into the void, he feels icy fingers comb through his hair. Then the world of dreams overtakes him, and all is still.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. In which Hiccup does not know his castle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hiccup wakes to a pair of pupil-less eyes mere inches from his own. He shrieks and scrambles away, his feet struggling to find purchase against the smooth sheets, and it isn’t until Jack starts laughing that he fully registers what just happened. </p><p>His husband sits up gracefully, clad in a nightgown Hiccup doesn’t remember him changing into, and leans casually against the headboard. “You drool when you snore.” </p><p>Hiccup’s first instinct is to apologize, but he shakes it off. Unfortunately, his brain seems to have failed him outside of that, because the next thing that comes out of his mouth is “uh.”</p><p>Jack hums and raises his arms above his head in a leisurely stretch, and Hiccup winces at the series of popping sounds coming from his back. Did Jack even have bones? And if he did, were they anything like a human’s? </p><p>“Over the course of the night, you snored forty seven times,” Jack’s voice cuts through his internal monologue, “and drooled with each occurrence.” He swings his legs off the bed and gets to his feet. His footsteps are silent as he crosses the room to a chest Hiccup hadn’t noticed the night before. Maybe it hadn’t been there at all. “You also spoke. Utter nonsense, mainly.”</p><p>He’s already selecting a vibrant seafoam green dress when Hiccup manages to get his vocal chords in working order. “I, uh, d-didn’t mean to… keep you up?”</p><p>“You did not keep me up,” Jack replies, “because I do not sleep.” He shrugs off his nightgown, and Hiccup quickly looks away before he can see too much perfect, corpse-pale skin. “It is odd to me that you need to do so.” Hiccup keeps his eyes averted as Jack laces himself up; judging by the crunching sounds, Jack is bending in unnatural ways to reach the cords. Perhaps he just didn’t want to wait for a servant.</p><p>“You, um, y-you don’t have to… stay in bed, if you don’t want to,” he says to the puddle of blankets around his waist. “While… While I’m sleeping, I mean. You can, um, d-do… stuff?” What would Jack even do while Hiccup slept? Hopefully not destroy anything, though he doubted any damage the fae caused couldn’t be just as easily reversed. From what he’d read, a suitably powerful fae could do quite a bit.</p><p>“I am aware,” Jack says, and finally the horrific crunching stops. Hiccup would much prefer to not be sick before he even had breakfast. He doesn’t notice Jack has moved until the fae is pulling his hand away from his face. He’s so close Hiccup can see the subtle, frost-like patterns in his eyes. “I stayed because I wished to.” </p><p>Hiccup almost expects him to kiss him again, but he just pats his cheek and flutters off to the table, where a tray of fruit, eggs, and toast has been laid out. Instead of selecting any of those human treats, however, Jack picks up a gilded bowl of cream and drains it almost instantly. Hiccup tries to block out the slurping noise, but doesn’t succeed. </p><p>“Must have been… kind of boring,” he mumbles. He pushes the blankets away and scoots to the edge of the bed. Jack is surveying the fruits with a vaguely disdainful look on his face. “Just… Just lying there.”</p><p>“Not at all.” Jack looks up from the fruits and meets his eyes with the sort of hunger the food should have received. His smile is all teeth. “I find you remarkably entertaining.”</p><p>Hiccup’s face turns crimson, and he makes a sound like a dog being stepped on. He doesn’t know if it’s a good thing to be entertaining, but the way Jack says the word fills it with a thousand other insinuations all at once. Then Jack is turning away, and Hiccup can finally breathe again. He was going to end up with brain damage at this rate. He’s broken from his thoughts by a tunic hitting him in the face.</p><p>“Dress yourself,” says his tunic throwing husband. “I desire a tour.” Hiccup manages to detangle himself from his clothing in time to see Jack draping himself over the arm of one of the sofas, one hand fidgeting with the small, wooden pendant hanging at his neck. He’s still watching him, and Hiccup can feel his fading blush come back full force.</p><p>“C-Can you, um, can you turn around? Please?”</p><p>Jack raises one perfect silver eyebrow, but acquiesces. “As you wish. Notify me when you are clothed.”</p><p><em> Thank the gods for small mercies, </em>Hiccup thinks. This time, at least, Jack doesn’t react, so maybe Hiccup is safe in his thoughts after all.</p><p>He dresses quickly, hyperaware of Jack’s presence as he fumbles with buttons and ties. He’s never put much thought into what he wore before, but now he feels like every thread and seam is under scrutiny. Which is even more ridiculous, considering Jack is still looking away when he’s done. He only turns when Hiccup says he can, but the way his eyes immediately dart up and down Hiccup’s body makes him want to squirm out of his skin.</p><p>Jack gets to his feet and floats over as silent as a breeze, and Hiccup tenses when Jack reaches up to tuck a lock of hair away from Hiccup’s eyes. “You look acceptable,” he hums, and Hiccup doesn’t know what to feel about the immediate relief that comes over him. Jack is already turning away, however, and Hiccup scrambles to grab an apple from the table before following. </p><p>“I-I’m probably not… the best person to… to give you a tour,” he admits as they pass by the guard stationed outside his door. Eret today, he notes, before Jack pulls him down the spiraling stairs and out of sight. </p><p>“Then we will discover it together,” Jack easily quips. </p><p>Hiccup sighs in defeat and tries to eat his apple as quickly as possible. By the time they’re in the corridor leading to the main part of the castle, he’s left with only a core. He would have just carried it until they got to the kitchens, but Jack plucks it from his fingers with a wrinkled nose and tosses it away. It vanishes with a puff of smoke in midair. </p><p>“D-Do you not like human food?” Hiccup glances at the spot the apple core had once been in, but they’re already a good way past it.</p><p>“I find it distasteful.” Jack’s wrinkled nose crumples further, until he looks a bit like one of the newborn hounds Hiccup’s father is so proud of. “Your dairy and confections are the only things I can stomach. The rest curdles in my mouth.”</p><p>Hiccup shudders slightly at the mental image. If that was the case, he could understand why Jack had only eaten cake at the festival. “So, uh, that’s why… the cream?” </p><p>Jack only hums in response, so Hiccup lets it drop. </p><p>The hallways of the palace are quiet, especially considering the bustle of the night before. Hiccup manages to catch glimpses of servants here and there, as well as snatches of laughter when they pass by a window to an occupied courtyard, but other than that, it’s near silent. He’s alone. </p><p>Jack shifts his grip from Hiccup’s hand to the crook of his elbow, and Hiccup is reminded that no, he’s not alone. He just fervently wishes he was.</p><p>“How is it that the Crown Prince is not familiar with his palace?” Jack asks. Hiccup dares to glance down at him, only to find that icy blue stare fixed right on him. He immediately looks away. </p><p>“Oh, I… don’t get out much?” He tries to laugh, but it comes out high-pitched and strained. “I m-mostly… stay in my tower.” <em> Like a fairy tale damsel, </em>his mind unhelpfully supplies.</p><p>Jack hums and squeezes his arm slightly. Hiccup can feel the cold of his skin even through his sleeve. “If you are to rule, should you not be among your people?” Hiccup glances down again, and luckily this time Jack is looking ahead. He’s unsure if he could summon any words while meeting that gaze.</p><p>“M-Maybe, but, it’s… for my protection.” He looks down at the stones beneath his feet; at least those won’t ask uncomfortable questions.</p><p>“There is no need for such measures now.” Jack’s voice is cold, now, firm with the same confidence Hiccup remembers hearing in the Winter Queen’s speech the night before. His grip on Hiccup’s arm tightens. “You are mine. I <em> protect </em> what is mine.” He digs in his nails until Hiccup meets his gaze, and he rewards him with a wide, shark-toothed smile. Hiccup gets the feeling it’s supposed to be comforting. Instead, it just leaves him vaguely uneasy.</p><p>“Uh, th—” Wait, no. “I-I mean, it’s appreciated!” Hiccup fumbles, but Jack is laughing before he can slip up again.</p><p>“You have little practical experience, my prince,” he hums. He looks forward again, his eyes dancing in the morning sun peeking through the windows. “We will work on that.” He pats Hiccup’s arm in another facsimile of comfort, but all Hiccup can manage in return in a shaky chuckle.</p><p>Hiccup only knows so many parts of the castle well enough to give Jack a proper tour, so they begin with the easiest: the kitchens. Where the halls and corridors had been silent, the kitchens are a bustle of activity. Ovens blaze, servants fly back and forth, and dishes of all kinds chop, sizzle, bake, and pop in all directions. At the center of it all is a dark-skinned woman with her curls tucked into a tight, black bun, but Hiccup knows better than to interrupt Tia when she’s working. Even the few experiences he remembers from early childhood are enough to make him wary.</p><p>Jack is silent at his side, his too-bright gaze flickering back and forth amid the organized chaos. A few of the servants pause long enough to give the prince and his consort a quick bow, but other than that, they are largely ignored. Honestly, Hiccup is more than a bit relieved. </p><p>“They toil much for so little,” Jack hums, and Hiccup glances down at him. There’s flour on the hem of his gown, and Hiccup is sure that, if he isn’t wearing shoes again, it’s also staining the bottoms of his feet. </p><p>“It’s what humans do.” Hiccup shrugs one shoulder and pulls Jack out of the way of a man with a sack of potatoes. “We’d, uh, better keep going. Th-They have a lot to do before lunch.” Jack nods once, and that’s all the encouragement Hiccup needs to flee. </p><p>The library is next, down several passages and through an empty courtyard. Hiccup knows this place almost as well as he knows his own quarters; a good portion of the collection is still housed in his rooms. It’s larger than the kitchens by far, though even quieter than the rest of the castle. Hiccup knows at least one attendant is hidden in the stacks, but he can pretend for now that it’s just him and Jack. He breathes in the scent of old parchment and binding glue in an attempt to steel himself. It doesn’t really work, but the familiar scent manages to calm his heart rate, at least.</p><p>“Biggest library in the country,” he says with a nervous chuckle. Jack has likely seen far more impressive collections, but it’s what he has to offer.</p><p>Jack hums and looks over the ceiling high shelves with mild interest. “We will explore this more at a later date,” he declares, and Hiccup thinks that’s the best reaction he realistically could have hoped for. This time, it’s Jack who leads them back into the hallways.</p><p>“The observatory next?” Hiccup tries to smile, and it halfway works, if the amused glint in Jack’s eyes says anything. The fae nods, and they’re back to silently traversing the maze. Their path takes them to the top of one of the highest towers, higher even than Hiccup’s own quarters. The stairs are lit with small, slitted windows, and Hiccup manages to catch glimpses of rolling countryside as they pass. The top is unlocked and unguarded, as usual, and Hiccup guides his husband into a round room with floor to ceiling windows. Delicate telescopes perch in front of them, and star maps scatter across spindly tables. </p><p>From here, they can see absolutely everything. Berk is laid before them like a patchwork quilt, dotted here and there with tiny stitched houses and roads. The sea rolls off to the east, and though they can’t see it from here, Hiccup knows it does the same to the south and west. To the north lies the forest, and Hiccup’s breath catches at the sight of ancient trees twisting in the distance.</p><p>“You can see Our Forest,” Jack murmurs beside him, and when Hiccup looks down, Jack is just as wide-eyed and mystified as Hiccup is. The fae breathes a small, near soundless sigh, and his jewel-bright eyes close to the view.</p><p>“Do you miss it?” The words slip out before Hiccup can stop them, but before he can apologize, Jack is nodding.</p><p>“It is home,” he murmurs. The icy echo is gone from his voice, replaced only with a distant solemnity. He squeezes Hiccup’s arm briefly, and when he opens his eyes again, they’re halfway dull. “Show me the rest of your palace.”<br/>Hiccup nods and guides him back down the stairs.</p><p>There’s little else Hiccup can show, so he takes Jack down the slit-windowed stairs, through several passages and an empty courtyard, and past the sound of chopping, sizzling, baking, and popping, to the gardens. By now, the sun has chased away the chilly remnants of the evening, and the ground is dry beneath their feet. Hiccup’s boots are solid against the earth, but the only sound Jack makes is that of softly rustling fabric. Jack’s eyes shift in every direction. They never stay in one place for long, but Hiccup gets the impression he’s taking in every detail anyway.</p><p>In the center of the gardens, past countless perfectly arranged beds and bushes, is a patch of wilderness. A single tree stands rooted among tumbling pink roses and dark, tangled ivy. Pale orange shelf mushrooms run up its side like a minute staircase, and a dozen songbirds sit perched in its branches. Hiccup carefully steps over the mossy stones and gestures to the tree with a flourish.</p><p>“This is, uh… This is my mother’s… memorial.”</p><p>Jack tilts his head as he surveys the scene, his sharp eyes roving over every leaf and stem. “It is… wild.” He smiles, then, all sharp teeth and bright eyes, and Hiccup is almost relieved to see that unsettling grin again. “I like it.”</p><p>Hiccup laughs, just once, and nods. “Y-Yeah, my dad says she… she would’ve wanted it like that. All messy and wild and… natural.” <em> Just like she had been, </em>his dad had said, on the rare occasions he and Hiccup visited it at the same time. </p><p>Jack hums, and his eyes start following the path of a bright blue butterfly flitting among the roses. “She must have meant much, to have a living display such as this.”</p><p>“She did,” Hiccup immediately replies. “My father loved her more than anything. She was a-a good queen, an honest and benevolent ruler. She always strove for the betterment of the p-people, and…” His cheeks flush slightly pink. “I… don’t remember her much. I was young when we… lost her.” He shrugs the shoulder not attached to the arm Jack is holding. “I have some good memories of her, but… not much.”</p><p>Jack’s eyes move from the butterfly up to Hiccup’s face, and Hiccup’s pink cheeks darken to red under his gaze. “You know her from what others say, more than what you can recall.” Hiccup nods, though he carefully doesn’t meet Jack’s eyes. </p><p>“My chambers were moved to the tower the, uh, the same year we lost her.”</p><p>Jack says nothing, just squeezes his arm one more time, then points to a patch of delicately blooming daisies. “Tell me about these flowers.” </p><p>Hiccup eagerly obeys, and they spend the rest of the morning discussing the various plants making up the garden. He’s in the middle of explaining the various uses of hemlock when the noontime bell tolls. He sighs and looks up in the general direction of the castle belltower, the bell still echoing above their heads.</p><p>“Well, that’s my—uh, <em> our </em> cue.” He shoots Jack an apologetic smile and nods his head towards his, now their, tower. </p><p>Jack’s eyebrows furrow with his frown. “I do not understand. Are you bound by the bell to return to your confinement?” His eyes gleam dangerously, and he glares at the distant belltower like it’s personally offended him. “If so, I can easily break the enchantment.” </p><p>Hiccup laughs nervously and immediately starts pulling Jack out of the gardens and, hopefully, out of tower destroying range. “N-No, no, I’m just <em> supposed </em> to go back when it rings. No enchantments involved.” Unfortunately, Jack apparently is not ready to drop the subject.</p><p>“Why?” His eyes narrow slightly as Hiccup half drags him back inside. “You are Crown Prince and heir to the throne. What power could a simple <em> bell </em> hold over you?” He wraps both arms around Hiccup’s elbow and digs in his heels. For someone so light, he certainly brings them to a halt easily enough. “Our time is better spent elsewhere.”</p><p>Hiccup resists the urge to groan. He bites his lip, but still makes an exasperated sound that makes Jack raise an eyebrow at him. He glances over his shoulder at the gardens, still unexplored and unexplained, then down at Jack and his stubborn expression. </p><p>“I just… I’m <em> supposed to… </em>” </p><p>Jack’s frown deepens, and this time, Hiccup really does groan. “Okay, but we go back once we’re done with the gardens.”</p><p>Jack nearly blinds him with his triumphant smile. “Excellent! I am glad we can agree!” With that, he turns on his heel and marches back to the gardens with his husband in tow. Hiccup sighs, glances back at the corridor leading to his chambers, then back to Jack and the gardens. </p><p>At least he won’t get in trouble alone this time.</p><hr/><p>They wind up missing lunch. Jack doesn’t seem to care, but by the time they emerge from the depths of the gardens, dinnertime is fast approaching. When they enter the castle, however, they find the hallways in chaos. Servants are running everywhere, and it takes a moment for a guard to even notice them among the bustle.</p><p>“Your Highness!” The servants part around the guard like water around a stone, and he lifts his hands as if to grab Hiccup by the shoulders. Jack hisses at his side, and the guard immediately drops his hands and takes a step back. Hiccup’s brows furrow a little.</p><p>“Eret? Weren’t you stationed at my door this morning?”</p><p>Eret sighs and pushes up his visor, revealing his sweaty face and flushed cheeks. “I was, sire, but when you didn’t return at midday, I was ordered to alert the king. The entire castle has been looking for you all afternoon!”</p><p>“He was with me.” Eret jerks and glances down at Jack like he’d forgotten he was there, though Hiccup can’t imagine how anyone could overlook Jack. The fae’s eyes narrow as he looks up at the guard, and he seems to loom over him despite the massive height difference. “Am I not allowed to tour the gardens with my husband?”</p><p>Eret’s tired expression melts into one of confusion. “We <em> checked </em> the gardens, Your Highness. Neither of you were anywhere to be found.”</p><p>“I desired <em> privacy </em>,” Jack sniffs haughtily. “Are newlyweds not allowed to enjoy one another’s company?”</p><p>“With all due respect, Your Highness,” Eret says, “the king prefers that the prince’s whereabouts are known at all times.”</p><p>Hiccup’s eyes dart between the two as rapidly as their conversation. “Uh, I-I was on castle grounds the entire time,” he points out, and both Eret and Jack’s eyes shoot to him. He swallows heavily, but keeps going. “I don’t need.. guards for that.”</p><p>“I am better than any guard,” Jack huffs. Eret opens his mouth to argue, but a glare from those icy eyes is enough to make him snap his jaw closed. “I <em> protect </em> what is <em> mine.” </em> </p><p>Eret purses his lips and glances at Hiccup out of the corner of his eye. Hiccup shrugs helplessly; regardless of what he thinks, Jack is his husband, though he isn’t fond of it being phrased so possessively. Eret sighs once, shakes his head, and steps back. “I’ll alert His Majesty. Dinner should be in your quarters, Your Highnesses.” </p><p>Hiccup chances a wave as the guard walks away. Luckily, the chaos is already dying down now that his presence has been noticed. Jack glares at the surrounding servants until they move out of his way, then continues their trek to the tower. </p><p>“My father won’t be happy,” Hiccup murmurs once they’re past the majority of the crowd. Jack huffs, and Hiccup has to keep careful watch on the floor to avoid slipping on the ice growing from Jack’s footsteps. </p><p>“I care little for his happiness,” he grumbles. A particularly large patch of ice blooms beneath his feet, and Hiccup grips his arm tight to keep from slipping. “If he believes a simple bell shall control us, he shall sorely regret this belief.”</p><p>“No hurting my father!” Hiccup squeezes Jack’s arm, and the fae turns with confusion in his eyes.</p><p>“I did not say I would hurt him,” he points out slowly, as if speaking to a small child, “but if he believes that human rules will contain me, he will be sorely disappointed.” He huffs through his nose and grasps Hiccup’s hand tightly before marching on. It seems not even annoyance could make him release Hiccup’s fingers. </p><p>Eret is once again standing by the door when they return. He stiffens into a salute at their approach, but Jack ignores him and glides past. Hiccup attempts a smile, but he doubts Eret has a chance to see it before Jack is slamming the door closed and pouncing on the nearest couch. There’s food set out on the table again, along with wine, but once again Jack doesn’t touch it. Instead, he grabs one of the throw pillows and starts tearing into it. Hiccup winces at the sound of shredding fabric and gingerly settles on the edge of the couch opposite him.</p><p>“H-He doesn’t do it to hurt me.” </p><p>Jack’s eyes snap from the mangled pillow to Hiccup’s face, and his brows furrow in confusion. </p><p>Hiccup winces, clears his throat, and glances away. “He’s not… trying to control me. Just keep me safe.” Jack scoffs and throws down the pillow.</p><p>“Keep you safe from what, husband? From your spouse? From the world at large? You are a man and a future king, not an object to be locked away.” He tucks his skirt neatly around his legs and glares into the fireplace. There’s a kettle heating over it, probably for tea. </p><p>Hiccup looks down at his hands instead of at Jack. “He just… doesn’t want to lose me,” he mumbles. “Like he lost my mother.” He hears Jack sit up and sigh, his skirts rustling as he gets to his feet.</p><p>“I am retiring for the night.” </p><p>Hiccup’s head snaps up, but Jack is already gliding towards the bed, unlacing his dress as he does. Hiccup looks away before the crunching noises can start.</p><p>“Um, goodnight.” The canopies part without Jack’s touch, and the fae briefly glances over his shoulder at Hiccup.</p><p>“...Goodnight, husband.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, there's chapter two! It wasn't as extensively combed over as chapter one, but hopefully it's still enjoyable! Thanks again for reading this far!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. In which books are stolen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As Hiccup expected, his father isn’t pleased. He and Jack are called into the main dining hall for breakfast, for the first time in Hiccup doesn’t even know how long, and given just enough time to dress and hurry to their destination before the king sends someone to fetch them.</p><p>Jack looks decidedly bored, Hiccup notes. He spends the majority of the trek fiddling with his wooden pendant and glaring ahead like the air itself has offended him. By the time they reach the massive oak doors leading to the main hall, at least half the castle staff has fled from their approach. </p><p>“Ready?” Hiccup asks his husband, but Jack just narrows his eyes at the doors. Hiccup gestures for the guards to open them before Jack has the chance to set them alight with his gaze. Considering the apple core, he wouldn’t put it past him. </p><p>His father is already seated, his posture stiff and formal at the head of the table. All the chairs except his are empty, though Hiccup isn’t surprised. The main dining hall is usually reserved for more formal occasions. And, apparently, for when his father needs to make a point. Stoick’s sleeves are rolled up, revealing freckles and scars in equal measure, and when he turns, Hiccup can see the bags under his eyes even from the doorway.</p><p>The king gestures to the chair at his right, and Hiccup hesitantly takes it. Jack perches on the chair beside him, still holding his arm like a trophy. A simple breakfast of porridge and cheese has been laid out, but Hiccup doubts any of them will touch it.</p><p>Stoick steeples his fingers and slowly looks between the two of them. Jack’s grip on Hiccup’s arm tightens just slightly.</p><p>“You didn’t return to your quarters at the noontime bell.” It isn’t a question, but Hiccup finds himself nodding anyway. He stares down at the table and traces the patterns in the wood with his eyes; there’s a whorl right beside Stoick’s elbow that is infinitely easier to look at than his father’s face.</p><p>“He was with me,” Jack says firmly. He meets Stoick’s eyes like a challenge, his chin raised and eyes narrowed. The king meets Jack’s gaze, but Hiccup can see the way his father’s hands tense in front of him.</p><p>“Who he was with doesn’t matter,” he says, his voice hard. </p><p>Hiccup digs his fingers into the fabric of his trousers. His shoulders rise up to his ears as he sinks almost imperceptibly into his chair. Stoick’s voice never stays quiet for long.</p><p>“I disagree, Your Majesty.” Jack tilts his head and meets Stoick’s gaze unblinkingly. For once, his smile is absent. “Do you not trust me, father in law?” Stoick’s eyes narrow near imperceptibly.</p><p>“Though you may not realize it, Jack, we have routines here.” Stoick folds his hands and sets them on the table, blocking the whorl Hiccup is so keenly observing. “We have rules and regulations that are meant to keep us all safe, and they are not to be so easily cast aside by your <em> whims.” </em> </p><p>Jack’s frown deepens slightly. Hiccup can feel his nails start to dig in through his sleeve.</p><p>“Should a prince not know his own country?” Jack purrs. “Should a man not know his own house? Pray tell, father in law, what is to be gained from isolating my husband like a prisoner?”</p><p>The king fixes Jack with a glare that makes Hiccup shrink in his seat despite not being its intended target. “All measures have been taken for his <em> protection.” </em></p><p>“I am all the protection he needs.”</p><p>“I disagree,” Stoick says through gritted teeth. Hiccup looks between the two rapidly like an observer at an archery match. “You are a newcomer, and I will need more than your <em> word </em> before I trust my son to you.”</p><p>“So you <em> do not </em> trust me, then,” Jack says. His voice is like a knife.</p><p>“Trust is <em> earned!” </em> Stoick’s voice raises, and he gets to his feet, his hands shaking the table when they slam on its surface. Hiccup flinches, but the king seems to grab hold of himself a moment later. He sits back down and folds his hands on his knees. His next words are at a regular volume. </p><p>“We have an alliance,” Stoick continues. His voice is shaky for the first time in Hiccup’s knowledge. “We have <em>peace</em>. But it is new, and you cannot expect us to dismantle everything at your command.” He takes a long, shaky breath inward and pinches the bridge of his nose. Hiccup thinks he can see his father’s hand trembling. It’s gone when the king meets Jack’s gaze again. “You are both to report to the guards before any more vanishing acts, am I understood?”<br/><br/>“Yes, father,” Hiccup mumbles to the table. </p><p>Jack is silent for a long moment, but Stoick meets his gaze unwaveringly until he replies. “Yes, father in law.”</p><p>Stoick nods once and gets to his feet. “Eat. I will be adjusting patrols for the remainder of the day. Return to your chambers by nightfall.” With that, he leaves, slamming the massive oak doors hard behind him.</p><p>Hiccup doesn’t eat much.</p><hr/><p>After breakfast, Jack drags Hiccup to the library. This time, an attendant is seated at the desk by the entrance, his nose buried in a book larger than Hiccup’s head. The man is broad in the shoulders and round in the stomach, but Hiccup knows better than to judge based on appearance, especially not with Jack at his shoulder. He hasn’t met the attendant before, but that’s no surprise; he hasn’t met about ninety percent of the staff. </p><p>“Oh, uh, good morning, Your Highnesses!” he greets. His face is as round as his stomach. “C-Can I be of service?” His gaze flickers between them, lingering for just a split second longer on Jack. Hiccup can’t say he blames him.</p><p>“Indeed you can be,” Jack hums. He looks the attendant up and down assessingly and, apparently finding nothing disagreeable, meets the man’s eyes unwaveringly. “Show me your history texts.”</p><p>The attendant immediately sets down his book and pushes away from the desk. “R-Right this way, Your Highnesses!” He scurries down the aisles of shelves like a startled deer, and Jack trails after him with an amused chuckle.</p><p>The library is vast in a way the castle itself could never be. The ceilings seem to stretch into the sky, layered with shelves upon shelves of captured words. Hiccup can wander forever and never get bored, but the attendant knows his way like a mole knows his tunnels. It’s a short trek to the wall of historical tomes, but Hiccup knows it would have taken much longer without his guidance.</p><p>“R-Right here, Your Highness!” The attendant dips into a bow, but Jack dismisses the courtesy with a wave.</p><p>“You have been most helpful. What may I call you?”</p><p>The attendant bolts upright, his watery eyes large in his round face. “M-My name is… I-I mean, I am called F-Fishlegs, Your Highness!” </p><p>Jack chuckles and nods, and his grin softens into something more amused than dangerous. “Fishlegs. I will remember your dutifulness. You may return to your station.” He dismisses the attendant with a wave and turns to the shelves, but Fishlegs continues to hover.</p><p>The man wrings his hands like old rags as Jack looks up and down the various spines, and Hiccup clears his throat before Fishlegs can say something to offend the faerie. The attendant’s gaze snaps to him instantly.</p><p>“Uh, d-did you start working here recently?” Hiccup asks. Gods, why was he trying for small talk? He was about as graceful with conversation as a greased yak on ice skates.</p><p>“Uh…” Fishlegs blinks up at him with a raised eyebrow. “N-No, Your Highness. I’ve worked in the castle library for three years now.”</p><p>Hiccup coughs and looks away, sure he’s blushing to the roots of his hair. “Oh, uh… that’s… nice? Y-You, um, you can… go back to your desk if you like.” He timidly waves Fishlegs away, and the attendant flees with near palpable relief. Hiccup can’t say he blames him.</p><p>Alone again, then, but it still left the question of Jack’s interactions. Hiccup turns to his husband and finds him tracing the leatherbound spines with a delicate finger. “So, um, what.. what was that about?”</p><p>“He was afraid, but kept his wits and was expedient in his duties,” Jack replies without looking away from the title he’s tracing. “I will require his services again in the future.” He selects a thick tome and pulls it from the shelf, then sets it in midair. It hovers at his side like a loyal hound as he adds a second book on top of it. </p><p>“I see…” Hiccup doesn’t see, but getting a straight answer from fae was reportedly like pulling teeth. He would rather save his energy for whatever minor chaos Jack caused next. “So, uh, why the history books?”</p><p>Jack bounces into the air, his skirts swirling about him like waves around the shore. He hovers to a shelf high enough to be out of even Hiccup’s reach and adds two more books to his pile. “I am familiar with our side of history. I wish to know yours.” Another book, this one as large as a paving stone, is added to his hovering stack. Hiccup is just glad Jack hasn’t set them all on one of the spindly tables littering the library; he doubts any of them could withstand that much weight. </p><p>“I… guess that makes sense,” Hiccup amends. He sits on the second to last step of the rolling ladder Jack had ignored and glances up at the swirling silhouette of his husband. Jack still isn’t wearing shoes. “But I… don’t think those are all in the same language?” </p><p>“All will be legible to me nonetheless.”</p><p>Hiccup decides not to question it. At least Jack is willing to learn more about the human side of things, though he can’t fathom why. Maybe Jack just wants something to do. He watches his husband browse the shelves for another fifteen minutes, until finally Jack is satisfied and comes down to earth with a stack of at least fifteen books hovering beside him. Hiccup is quietly grateful that Jack doesn’t expect him to help carry the books back. </p><p>“I am ready to return to our quarters,” he hums as he takes Hiccup’s arm. The stack of books bobs merrily behind them. </p><p>It takes longer than Hiccup would have liked to find the entrance again, but Jack seems to thrive in confusion and cheerfully pulls him through the stacks until they emerge by Fishlegs’ desk. Jack snaps his fingers, and the stack of books sets itself in front of the attendant with a resounding <em> thud. </em> </p><p>“I will be taking these texts back to our quarters,” he declares as Fishlegs scrambles to write down all the titles. “They will be returned once I have acquired the information I seek.”</p><p>“O-Of course, Your Highness,” Fishlegs squeaks behind the pile. “L-Let me just…” He hastily scribbles something in the heavy parchment ledger and gives Jack a thumbs up. “O-Okay, you’re all set.”</p><p>“Wonderful. Your expedience is acknowledged and appreciated.” Hiccup gets the sense that Jack would have patted the top of Fishlegs’ head like a dog’s if he could reach, but instead the fae nods curtly and leaves with books and husband in tow. Hiccup manages a quick wave goodbye before Fishlegs is out of sight. </p><p>Hiccup looks down at the top of Jack’s snowy head as they make their way back to the tower. “Are you… really going to read all those?” He glances back at the floating book pile, still as massive as before. He’s fairly certain any one of those books could crush his ribcage.</p><p>“Of course.” Jack chuckles and glances up at Hiccup, his pupil-less eyes glittering. “If I am to rule beside you, I should know our country’s history.”</p><p>Hiccup hasn’t thought of it that way. It’s true that, eventually, Jack will be his Prince Consort. He’ll rule at his side as his partner and confidant, just as Hiccup’s mother had for his father. And yet, thinking of Jack in the same role his mother had once taken makes Hiccup’s stomach clench. </p><p>“I… guess that makes sense,” he says instead of voicing any of that. Jack makes that happy harp sound and continues on. The marching books are starting to feel like a funeral procession.</p><p>Lunch has been laid out when they reach their quarters, and Hiccup wastes no time in making a plate for himself. Jack, meanwhile, sends the majority of his book pile to sit on the floor by their bed, while the one at the top of the stack settles in his lap like a tame bird. He opens it to the first page while Hiccup eats, and he makes it through a few dozen pages by the time Hiccup finishes. </p><p>“You must read quickly,” Hiccup says as he sets his empty plate aside. Jack’s eyes momentarily flick up from his book, then back down to the miniscule writing.</p><p>“This is the pace at which I always read.” He flips to the next page, half of which is taken up by a map of some long dead battlefield. Hiccup suddenly wishes that he could read Old Berkian, if only to get some understanding of what Jack is looking at.</p><p>“Are there libraries in, um, your… realm?” He doesn’t know quite what to call it. So many sources have different names for the realm the fae reside in, but he doubts any of them actually asked a fae. Jack hums once and traces the near invisible lines on the map.</p><p>“There are. Not quite the same as yours, however. Our texts do not always allow themselves to be read.” He chuckles fondly, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. It makes Hiccup wonder if this is the first real smile he’s seen from Jack. “I have had to wrestle many a book or scroll into submission.” The small smile lingers, soft and almost wistful. “Those texts are often the most useful, however.”</p><p>“The books are alive?”</p><p>“In a way. Are not most things alive, when used and touched and spoken to enough?” Jack glances up from the book again and meets Hiccup’s gaze from under his lashes. Even his eyelashes are silver. “The items in Faerie simply show it more.”</p><p>Hiccup blinks, more than a tad taken aback. “Is… that what your realm is called? Faerie?”</p><p>“Among many other names.” Another flipped page, another indecipherable map. “Humans having only one name is why they were stolen so often.” He meets Hiccup’s eyes with a slow, secretive smile. “Among… other reasons.”</p><p>Hiccup turns red to the tips of his ears and snaps his gaze away. Jack laughs, the sound even more bell-like than before, and returns to his book. Sensing the end of the conversation, Hiccup picks up a half-finished novel from the pile by the couch and flips to his last remembered page. </p><p>They spend the rest of the day like that. It’s almost… nice, for lack of a better word. Hiccup is unsure what else to call the odd sense of peace reading with another person in the room brings, but it isn’t unpleasant. By nightfall, he’s finished his novel and Jack has gotten through three of his history texts and halfway through a fourth. </p><p>“Will you even be able to remember all of it?” Hiccup asks as Jack changes into a nightgown. He keeps his gaze carefully averted, as always. Jack merely laughs and drapes himself across Hiccup’s shoulders.</p><p>“I remember <em> everything, </em>husband,” he purrs in Hiccup’s ear, and he nips the shell of it just once before slipping beneath the covers.</p><p>Hiccup’s heart races until sleep overcomes him.</p><hr/><p>The next morning finds Jack once again reading on the couch. Hiccup blinks blearily in the morning light, and slowly he can make out that it’s a different book than the one Jack had left off the night before. He yawns widely and shifts into a sitting position, and the rustling draws Jack’s attention away from the pages.</p><p>“Good morning, husband,” he hums. “You did not snore as much last night. Does this mean you are sleeping well?”</p><p>Hiccup stares at him for a moment, then slowly nods. He actually has slept well, now that he thinks about it. He usually has dreams, often bizarre ones, but he can’t recall any from last night. Jack grins from his cushioned perch and nods to the breakfast already set out for them.</p><p>“I have eaten. It is best you do so as well.”</p><p>Well, no point arguing with that. Hiccup could see steaming sweet buns among the fruit and eggs, and to his surprise, when he reaches the table, he finds one missing. He turns to Jack with furrowed brows.</p><p>“You… tried one? I thought you hated human food.”</p><p>Jack laughs, but doesn’t look up from his book. “I said I can stomach your dairy and sweets, did I not? I deemed the buns acceptable fare.”</p><p>Hiccup quirks an eyebrow, but decides not to argue. There are plenty of sweet buns left, after all. He sets up his plate and flops on the couch opposite Jack with a sigh. The fae glances up momentarily to smirk at him.</p><p>“I much prefer your hair in this state,” he hums to the pages. “Chaos suits you well, husband.”</p><p>Hiccup raises a hand to his hair, no doubt mussed from sleep. “Why would you… Oh.” He coughs and looks down at his plate in an attempt to hide his red cheeks. Now was not the time to think too hard on that particular compliment, especially not with Jack still smirking across the table. However, his mind decides now is the perfect time to think of all the <em> other </em> ways his hair could have gotten like this, and Hiccup immediately distracts himself with breakfast. Sweet buns lead to far less awkward paths. </p><p>Jack hums to himself as Hiccup eats. The tune seems mindless, but Hiccup picks up on several repeated strains of notes. He isn’t familiar with the song, let alone the words, but Jack’s humming turns to singing in an unknown language under his breath.</p><p>“Serenading me now?” he tries to tease. The singing immediately stops, and Jack blinks mildly startled eyes at him.</p><p>“Was I singing? If so, I apologize. I did not mean to disturb you.”</p><p>Hiccup shakes his head. “No, no, i-it’s… nice.” The tips of his ears turn pink. Jack blinks at him again, then chuckles softly and looks back down at his book. After a moment, he resumes singing. Hiccup relaxes against the couch and goes back to eating.</p><p>After breakfast, he dresses and selects another half-read novel from the pile. The morning is spent in something Hiccup might call a companionable silence. The noontime bell rings, and Jack makes a face and closes his book.</p><p>“I wish to destroy that infernal bell,” he grumbles, “but I doubt your father would take kindly to such an action.” He huffs and sets aside his book. Hiccup raises an eyebrow when Jack actually gets to his feet.</p><p>“Uh, where’re you going?”</p><p>“Where are <em> we </em> going,” Jack corrects. He plucks the novel from Hiccup’s fingers and tosses it onto the couch cushions. “Come, husband. We have business to attend.”</p><p>Hiccup raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t argue and gets to his feet. Jack loops his arm through Hiccup’s and marches him to the door, barely sparing the guard a glance as he goes. </p><p>The trek he takes is one Hiccup isn’t familiar with, and he’s fairly certain Jack isn’t familiar with it either. The fae marches on with purpose, his eyes firm with determination, but every turn seems to lead them in circles. After an hour of this, Jack, brimming with frustration, calls over a maid with a basket of laundry.</p><p>“How do I get to the belltower?” he demands. The maid shakes under his gaze, but manages to stutter out directions detailed enough to satisfy Jack. He dismisses her with a wave, and Hiccup knows he isn’t imagining it when she practically dissolves in relief.</p><p>“Why do you want to go to the belltower?” Hiccup asks as Jack pulls him past a massive floral tapestry.</p><p>“You will see, husband,” Jack grumbles, which does nothing to ease the dread pooling in Hiccup’s stomach. Jack may have insinuated that he wouldn’t destroy the bell, but that still left a wide margin for damage. </p><p>Nonetheless, they eventually find themselves at the base of the belltower, which Jack makes short work of climbing. Hiccup is fairly certain he’s using magic to bolster both of their steps, but he isn’t going to argue. The belltower’s stairs are steeper than the ones to his quarters, and any assistance in keeping pace is appreciated.</p><p>The servant assigned to ringing the bell isn’t there when they get to the top, though Hiccup isn’t surprised. It took them nearly an hour and a half to find the damn place, after all. The bell hangs from the rafters, swaying slightly in the wind, and Jack drops Hiccup’s arm in favor of storming over to it.</p><p>“I-I thought you said you w-weren’t going to destroy it?” Hiccup stammers by the doorway. Jack shoots him a sharp, manic grin.</p><p>“That I did, husband, but I said nothing about <em> silencing it.” </em></p><p>He grabs the bottom of his skirt in both hands and, with a loud rip, tears the bottom two feet of it away. Hiccup turns red at the sight of his pale knees and bare inch of thigh, but doesn’t look away in case he has to keep Jack from doing something unsavory.</p><p>The fae ducks into the brass bell, large enough to allow someone as short as Jack to comfortably stand. Hiccup ducks down just in time to witness Jack grabbing the metal clapper.</p><p>“Sh-Shouldn’t that burn you?” </p><p>Jack gives him a withering look. “It is <em> iron </em> that burns us, husband, not brass. I will have to further your education of my people, I see.” He scoffs and turns back to the clapper, then starts wrapping the ripped fabric around it. Around and around and around, until the clapper is more fabric than metal. Hiccup doesn’t think there was that much fabric in Jack’s skirt, but he doesn’t comment.</p><p>Jack finishes his work with a tight knot, then lays a hand against the fabric and whispers something in a language Hiccup can’t understand. The clapper briefly glows blue, and the knot melts into the wrappings. The fabric tightens around the clapper as Hiccup watches, then melds into a single sleeve. Jack grins triumphantly and ducks out of the bell.</p><p>“The clamoring is now silenced,” he chirps. Hiccup’s gaze flicks between his husband and the bell, which from the outside looks just the same as before.</p><p>“What was the… magic for?” Jack shrugs and slips his icy hand into Hiccup’s.</p><p>“Ensuring that it cannot be cut or burned, nor the clapper removed from the bell. If they wish to restore the noise, they will have to make a new one!” He giggles with delight, then tucks himself into Hiccup’s side and practically dances to the door. “Come, husband! There is still reading to be done!”</p><p>Hiccup sighs, defeated, and allows himself to be pulled along. </p><p>They make it back to their quarters without incident; apparently Jack does have an excellent memory, which makes traversing relatively new parts of the castle a breeze. Jack nearly bounces onto the sofa and happily scoops up his abandoned text. Sighing, Hiccup sits opposite him and does the same.</p><p>“They’ll know it was you,” he says as he flips to the correct page. Jack giggles from behind his book and peeks over it, pupil-less eyes glinting.</p><p>“My dear husband, that is entirely the <em> point.” </em> He ducks back behind his book, but Hiccup can hear him giggling to himself for the next half hour.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm sorry that it took so long to get this chapter out, but real life and family emergencies took precedence over editing and writing. To make a long story short, I was sick, and my mom got into a car accident. She's fine, no worries, but she's going to need a lot of care and attention over the coming weeks, so updates may continue to be slow. I hope you stay tuned regardless!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. In which out of season weather is had</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sunrise comes gracefully, and Hiccup blinks awake just as its first rays reach the window panes. He grumbles slightly, irked by the light, but yawns and shuffles into a sitting position. He looks to his side and, upon finding his husband missing, scoots to the edge of the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are awake earlier than usual.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup jumps and turns to find Jack curled up in a chair by the window, his eyes fixed on the brightening horizon. Hiccup sighs and runs a hand through his tangled hair. He can feel sleep seeds stuck in the corners of his eyes, but a firm rubbing doesn’t scrub them away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he mumbles after giving up on ridding himself of eye gunk. “The sun woke me up, I guess.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack only hums, his gaze unmoving, and Hiccup frowns slightly. “What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watching the sun,” Jack answers, voice a soft murmur. There’s something in his voice that Hiccup doesn’t recognize, something almost reverent. Jack shifts slightly so his elbows are perched on the chair’s arm, and the first light of day brushes against his cheeks as delicately as a lover’s caress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup gets to his feet and shuffles to the window. It’s a lovely morning, with clear skies and a rosy horizon, but it’s not exceptional. Merely another sunrise at the beginning of yet another day. Nevertheless, Jack watches it with a keen fascination Hiccup has never seen on his face before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you… not have sunrises where you’re from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack blinks and momentarily glances away from the window and up at Hiccup. “We have a day and night cycle,” he says slowly, almost hesitantly, “but the moments between are not so… transitionary.” He nods once and turns to the sunrise again. The pink light makes his light blue gown look almost purple. “Breakfast has not arrived yet. I suggest you return to bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um… okay?” Hiccup raises a questioning eyebrow, but does as Jack suggests. Breakfast won’t come for at least another hour, and he still has sleep seeds in his eyes. He’s out the moment his head hits the pillow.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It hardly feels like Hiccup had closed his eyes for a second when a knock comes at the door. He groans and buries his face in his pillow, but the door is already opening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Your Highness! I didn’t expect to see you awake!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Judging by the voice, it was Violet delivering breakfast today. He has half a mind to greet her, but the mattress is too comfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I took the opportunity to watch the sunrise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, right. Jack doesn’t sleep. Hiccup groans into his pillow and ponders hiding under the covers for a few more minutes. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with him quite yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack is still talking, so Hiccup uncovers one ear to at least get a sense of what he’s saying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you remembered the cream. It is appreciated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Violet laughs, a distinctly human laugh that sounds nothing like bells or icy winds or anything magical. “Yes, I’m sorry one of the other girls forgot it yesterday. I hope the sweet buns were enough?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack hums agreeably, and if Hiccup strains his ears, he can hear him tapping the porcelain bowl of cream. “They sufficed, yes. Again, it is appreciated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad to hear it. Send a guard if you need anything!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels strange hearing someone avoid the words “thank you” so much, but Hiccup supposes that’s the point. “Thank you” is an admission of debt, and fae hate owing someone. Admitting debt over a bowl of cream sounds rather ridiculous. Nonetheless, Violet leaves, shutting the door behind her, and Hiccup braces himself for the hideous slurping noise. However, it doesn’t come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you are awake.” A soft rustling approaches him, probably from Jack’s dress. The bed dips slightly, and Hiccup begrudgingly opens his eyes to glare up at his husband. Jack just laughs, so he drops the glare and sits up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A maid forgot your cream yesterday?” he asks once he’s successfully detangled himself from the blankets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup’s brows furrow slightly. “And you… didn’t get angry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack gives him a bewildered look, something that looks incredibly odd on his perfect face. “No. Are you expecting me to be angry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup flushes a little and looks away. Truthfully, he had, in some way, expected Jack to fly off the handle at little problems like servants forgetting part of a meal, but apparently he’d been wrong. Hiccup blinks and turns back to Jack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, is that why you ate a sweet bun?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack laughs delightedly and boops him on the nose. “Very astute of you, husband! We will hone those eyes of yours yet!” He darts up to press a quick, icy kiss to Hiccup’s lips before bouncing to their breakfast table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup covers his ears before the slurping starts.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Jack is determined to force Hiccup out before he’s even tied his bootstraps, but Hiccup at least manages to get a decent breakfast before Jack pushes him out the door. A stack of books hovers behind them, Hiccup’s dog-eared novel settled on top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-Is there a reason you’re so eager to read outside?” Hiccup asks once they’re down the stairs and Jack has looped a possessive arm around his elbow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack giggles and glances at Hiccup from the corner of his eye. “Why, I wish to see the </span>
  <em>
    <span>results, </span>
  </em>
  <span>of course!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup frowns down at him, lost, then groans and rubs his temple. The bell is only rung at noon, for some reason Hiccup’s father has never disclosed to him, so of course Jack’s subterfuge will go unnoticed until then. “You’re not exactly being subtle,” he mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack pats his elbow almost condescendingly and doesn’t dignify him with a response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gardens are still wet with dew when Jack selects a spot underneath a flowering willow tree and settles in. Hiccup sits beside him, making a face when the wetness immediately soaks into his trousers. Jack laughs at his expression and hands Hiccup his book. When Hiccup opens it, all the corners have been folded back to normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should not mistreat the pages so,” Jack chastises as he flips to his own page. Hiccup doesn’t know how he keeps track without a bookmark. “The books do not like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup glances down at his novel, then back at Jack. “Is this about books being alive?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack hums without looking up from the timeline of battles he’s browsing. “Yes. You should respect that which contains the soul of the past.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup looks down at his book again. It’s small, and the pages are worn and ragged. The printing press that made it left behind odd, off-center marks, and a few of the letters are smudged. It’s not exactly grand, but he gently rubs the crease of the dog ear until the corner lies flat again. “I’ll need a bookmark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still not looking up from the page, Jack waves a hand in the air, and one of the willow tree’s catkins plucks itself from the branches and flattens into a length of blue ribbon. It settles between the pages of Hiccup’s book like a bird coming to roost. Hiccup touches it gingerly; it’s almost too smooth to be real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that settled, they return to their reading. Hiccup hadn’t noticed it in the tower, but Jack makes little noises when he’s concentrating. He hums when he traces over names, and when he finds something odd, he makes a sound like a strummed violin in the back of his throat. Hiccup is fairly certain he’s taking careful notes somewhere, though Jack doesn’t have a pen or parchment. Maybe he doesn’t need them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Half a chapter later, the quiet of the garden is interrupted by a shriek of laughter. A tiny figure races past their place among the willow branches, giggling with glee. Jack brightens like a child on Snoggletog morning and immediately sets his book aside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup gulps and tries to grab him before he vanishes. “Jack, wait–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Too late. Jack dances past him, and the hanging branches part for him like stage curtains. The little figure, a girl of about two with bright blonde hair, races past, and she squeals with delight when Jack easily scoops her up. He spins the child around and around, their laughter harmonizing, and by the time Hiccup manages to stumble through the wet grass, the girl already has her hands tangled in Jack’s snowy hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty!” she squeals, and Jack coos and presses kisses to her sticky face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A panting maid bursts through the hedges, her blonde braid full of twigs and her apron askew. “Sophie!” she cries and looks around frantically. The moment she spots the child, she immediately relaxes. That is, until she notices just who is holding her. The poor woman blanches and runs over as fast as the wet ground will let her. “Y-Your Highness, I-I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry! Sh-She slipped away from the daycare group, and–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is no trouble,” Jack interrupts. He barely spares the maid a glance as the child—Sophie, apparently—runs tiny hands over his cheeks and tugs at his bangs. “She is an absolute delight. Is she yours?” He briefly glances at the maid, but then Sophie bounces on his hip, and his attention is stolen again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, n-no, Your Highness,” the maid stammers. “I-I work in childcare; a few other servants and I watch the children of nobles and other servants.” She reaches as if to take Sophie from Jack, but a look in her direction makes her drop her arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see,” Jack hums. He presses a kiss to the top of Sophie’s blonde head. “Then we should return her to the group, should we not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The maid lets out a breath of relief and nods. “Y-Yes, I’ll just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup shoots her a sympathetic look when Jack walks right past her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack marches through the garden with cheerful confidence, still bouncing Sophie in his arms. She’s managed to climb halfway up his shoulder, but a swirl of wind keeps her from falling. The maid trudges behind him, reaching out whenever Sophie wriggles or squeals. Hiccup brings up the rear with the book stack and silently wishes he had just stayed in his chambers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After about ten minutes of walking, laughter slips through the bushes and onto the wind. Hiccup is sure that if he could see Jack’s face, the fae would be smiling wide enough to show every overly numerous tooth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-Your Highness, I r-really should be taking Sophie now,” the maid begs, but Jack either doesn’t hear her or doesn’t care because he slips through an arbor and into a little courtyard filled with children.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s at least a dozen, all running and jumping and shrieking. Sophie cheers in Jack’s arms, and he sets her down and watches her run off to cling to a brown-eyed boy of about eight. Beside Hiccup, the maid practically dissolves in relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That relief doesn’t last long, however. The moment one child catches Jack’s eye, he’s off and kneeling next to a pair of dark-skinned twins. Within seconds, half of the children have flocked to him, much to the dismay of the servants watching them. The blonde maid is wringing her hands so much Hiccup’s almost afraid they’ll fall off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’s your hair white?” demands a girl with a knitted cap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t look real,” says one of the dark-skinned twins. “Are you real?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t your eyes have dots?” asks a blond boy with thick red glasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every question makes Hiccup tense up a little more, but Jack laughs and pulls the blonde boy into his lap. The boy settles in immediately and stares up at Jack with wide, watery blue eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am real,” Jack answers easily, “my hair is white because I was born that way, and my eyes have no pupils because I do not see the same way that you do. Do you have other inquiries? My answers are freely given, but only if I can say no to answering.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That starts a veritable tsunami of questions, and Hiccup lets out a relieved sigh and goes to join them. If he stays close, he has a better chance of preventing any issues before they happen. He shoots the blonde maid and her two coworkers a shaky smile as he sits down, but they don’t seem convinced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you a boy or a girl?” The brown-haired boy Sophie had run to has joined the fray, and he leans against Jack’s back without any hesitation. “People keep saying you’re a boy, but if you’re a boy, why do you wear dresses?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I not wear dresses?” Jack asks curiously. “They are what I enjoy wearing.” He rests his chin on the blonde boy’s head and smiles at his little entourage. “You humans are very strange. My people do not have the same… </span>
  <em>
    <span>perception</span>
  </em>
  <span> of gender that you do, but male is the closest word in your language. So, yes, I am a boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brown-haired boy nods and plops next to Hiccup in the grass. Sophie toddles over and flops into his lap, where she promptly shoves her thumb in her mouth and settles in. There’s grass stuck in her hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you do magic?” asks the girl with the knitted cap. One of the twins elbows her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pippa, you can’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask </span>
  </em>
  <span>that!” he hisses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Pippa hisses back. “It’s just a question, and he said he’d answer!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cause it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>rude!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the boy borderline shouts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Caleb!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shut up!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack summons a snowball from thin air and throws it into Pippa’s lap before the argument can turn into a full on fist fight. He grins as both children turn to look at him with wide eyes, the snowball already melting a little in Pippa’s grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To answer your question, yes, I can do magic,” Jack says. He smiles that too wide grin, but instead of the fear Hiccup expects, the children all light up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make another one!” Caleb demands, and his brother bounces next to him with delight in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes only five minutes for show-and-tell to turn into a snowball fight. Hiccup has no idea how it escalated so quickly, but he narrowly avoids getting beaned in the head with an icy projectile before hiding behind a tree with the servants who are supposed to be supervising this mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack shrieks with laughter, his voice high and airy amid the squeals and yells. Hiccup almost wishes he could see how he looks when he laughs like that, but decides getting hit with snow isn’t worth the effort. Especially when Jack has such deadly aim. His energy is better spent protecting the still hovering library books from the threatening damp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-Do they, uh, normally get this rowdy?” he asks the nearest servant, a woman with short black hair and a heart-shaped face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorts and ducks to avoid an incoming snowball. “Definitely not.” She peers around the tree for a moment, only to get hit right in the face with a handful of snow. “Oh, that’s it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mavis!” the blonde maid cries, but the woman is already pushing up her sleeves and joining the fray. Hiccup would be concerned if she wasn’t laughing so hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’ll be fine, Rose,” the other servant soothes. His messy red hair is full of snow, and Hiccup is fairly certain there’s also a decent amount of it in the servant’s shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m worried about!” Rose whines and watches as Jack hits Caleb in the back with a snowball, only to get hit in return by two other children. “Oh, gods, I knew I should have made them wear iron today!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rose, not in front of…” The servant makes aggressive head movements in Hiccup’s direction, but Rose only snorts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He should know better than anyone how dangerous this is!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…” Both servants’ eyes immediately snap to Hiccup, and he flushes bright red under their gazes. “I-It, uh, it seems okay so far?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay so–”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Unfortunately, the world will never know what indignant remark Rose was about to say, because that was the exact moment one of Jack’s snowballs hit her in the side of the head. She stands there, shell-shocked, for a long moment, before clapping her hands to her mouth as a laugh slips through her fingers. It gets louder than longer she tries to hold it in, and then she, too, is running into the snowball battle and scooping up fistfuls of impossible white powder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The red-haired servant shoots Hiccup a look and shrugs. “If you can’t beat ‘em,” he says, then marches past Hiccup and fills his arms with snow. He dumps it on Mavis’s head, and she pushes him into a pile of snowballs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup has no idea what just happened, but he isn’t given much chance to think about it before Jack is bouncing to his side and pulling him into the chaos with both hands. “You are missing the fun, husband!” he practically cheers right before summoning another massive pile of snow. He promptly shoves Hiccup into it and laughs when he splutters. “Free for all!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>on.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup can’t remember ever participating in a snowball fight as a kid, but it can’t be that hard, right? Throw snowballs, get hit, scream a lot. Seems pretty simple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scoops up a handful of snow and packs it into a messy ball, then throws it at his husband. Jack laughs and nimbly dodges before throwing his own, which hits Hiccup in the chest. Two more snowballs hit him from behind, and he glances over his shoulder to see the brown-haired boy and the kid with glasses cackling with glee. He scoops up more snow and throws in retaliation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The glasses boy manages to dodge, but the other gets hit and goes down shrieking with laughter. He dashes off to scoop up his sister and recruit her into snowball making while three of the other children pelt their supervisors with snowballs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the snowball fight is, quite frankly, a blur. Hiccup remembers getting a snowball the size of a man’s torso dumped on him by a stocky girl in a pink dress, and Jack spinning amid the chaos and laughing. Always laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He practically glows when he laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can still hear Jack laughing, in fact, because Jack is lying next to him in the snow and giggling, his eyes squeezed shut and his smile wide enough to swallow the moon. Jack sits up and looks down at Hiccup with twinkling eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you it was fun,” he says, then pulls Hiccup into a kiss that makes his cheeks and lips burn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun is high in the sky, but Hiccup can’t hear a bell. When he says so, Jack laughs even harder.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It isn’t until the snow has mostly melted and they’ve waved goodbye to the children that the bell’s silence is noticed. Hiccup spots a few guards looking in the direction of the belltower, a few more checking the sun to see if maybe they got the time wrong. Eventually, they rotate the guard anyway, if only so the ones meant to take lunch can do so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack looks pleased as punch at Hiccup’s side. His possessive hand clings tightly to Hiccup’s arm, but he starts humming as they meander their way back to their chambers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When, uh, when do you think they’ll check it?” Hiccup asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack glances up at him, and Hiccup is nearly blinded by the gleam in his eyes. “Tonight, I would expect. Possibly tomorrow. Longer, if they assume the silence was due to someone forgetting to ring it.” He borderline cackles, and it reminds Hiccup briefly of the evil wizards in his old storybooks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll take a while to make a new bell,” Hiccup remarks once Jack is done with his self-satisfied chortling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful,” Jack chirps. “The longer spent without that accursed sound, the better.” He sends Hiccup that wide, sharp smile and presses his cheek against his arm. “And there can be no curfew without the timepiece with which it is set.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup sighs and awkwardly pats the hand digging into his sleeve. Jack’s fingers are surprisingly small, but unsurprisingly cold. It’ll probably come in handy during the summer months when everyone is complaining of the heat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack takes to the brief contact like a cat to a sunbeam, and he practically purrs for the rest of the walk. If Hiccup looks closely, he can see the tips of Jack’s pointed ears twitching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s odd to think they’ve been married for less than a week. He’s far from used to it, but at the same time, it’s hard to recall how he spent so many years alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He read a lot, he knows. He drew enough to fill countless sketchbooks and sketched up ideas for trinkets and machines he’ll never get a chance to make. He had lessons when he was younger, but once he turned twenty, they had trickled off into nothing, until it was just him, his tower, and countless hours spent alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He does the same things in his chambers that he did before, but even just sitting and reading with Jack in the room feels inherently different. Something about having another person in the room, seeing him whenever Hiccup turns a page or glances up from his book, has a different energy to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack is never entirely quiet. His footsteps make no sound, but there’s a rustle of fabric, or the hum of his voice, or the tinkle of his laugh. When they return to the tower, he further proves this point by flopping onto his usual couch and humming some strange, cheery tune. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the wedding, Hiccup could go hours without hearing anything besides the wind and the crackle of the fire, but Jack fills the space between sounds with startling ease. There’s no way to ignore him, and Hiccup has the sense that if he tried, Jack would make it even more impossible to forget his presence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack gives Hiccup a questioning look and props his elbow on the back of the couch. “Are you simply going to stand there, husband? You stand like an uninvited stranger in your own home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An invisible force pushes at Hiccup’s back, and he jerks into motion at its insistence. After a moment of hesitation, he settles on the couch next to Jack. The fae nudges his thigh with his bare feet, and Hiccup rolls his eyes and scoots away just enough for Jack to fully stretch out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets a grin in return, and he tries to ignore the way his heart pounds at the pleased expression on Jack’s face. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. In which Hiccup uses colorful words</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
  <span>Hiccup isn’t good at keeping track of the days. Hours and days and weeks seem to fly by, or at least they did before Jack came crashing into his life like a dragon in a tavern. There’s one day, though, that every Viking knows and keeps careful track of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Saturday.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>When he wakes up and realizes what day it is, he groans and immediately wishes he could go back to sleep. If Jack is flirtatious normally, Hiccup doesn’t even want to think what he’ll be like on the traditional day for grooming, combing, and bathing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>It’s not a day that he can just skip, however, so Hiccup sits up and prepares himself for the occasion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Jack is, as expected, on his preferred couch, nose deep in a book that looks like it might fall apart any second. He glances up when Hiccup passes him, but otherwise ignores him. Small mercies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup is lucky enough to have slept through the slurping, at least. The porcelain cream bowl is empty, the rest of the food untouched, and he dawdles as long as he can before sitting opposite Jack with his plate balanced on his knees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“It’s, uh, it’s Saturday.” Might as well get it over with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Jack, however, doesn’t even look up. “I am aware.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup blinks and glances between Jack and his breakfast. His throat feels too dry to swallow anything. “Do you… um, do you know what we…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Jack chuckles and finally sets the book down. “If you are trying to ask if I know that Saturday is your day of bathing and grooming, then yes, I am aware of that as well.” He gestures vaguely in the direction of the bathroom and leans back in his seat. “You do not need my permission to </span>
  <em>
    <span>bathe, </span>
  </em>
  <span>husband.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup stares at him for a long moment. “You… don’t want to join me?” He’d expected some kind of flirtation, or at least more of a conversation than this. Suddenly, he’s almost disappointed. He hasn’t bathed with anyone since he was a child, and most families bathe together every week.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Jack shifts in a way that seems almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>uncomfortable</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “No. Bathing may be more communal for humans, but I will bathe alone.” His awkward expression quickly gives way to a mischievous smirk. “If you cannot handle the sight of my </span>
  <em>
    <span>knees, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I shudder to think of how you will react to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>rest</span>
  </em>
  <span> of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup squeaks and looks down at his breakfast. Suddenly, scrambled eggs are the most fascinating things in the world. Yes, definitely can’t be looking away from those anytime soon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>He can feel Jack’s gaze burning into him, but doesn’t relax until Jack laughs. He looks up when he hears the rustle of pages, and Jack smirks at him from behind the shield of ancient leather covers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will assist in other grooming matters, but bathing shall be separate. Are we agreed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup hastily nods and shoves a forkful of eggs into his mouth before he can do something stupid like admit bathing together wouldn’t be too bad.<br/></span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  
  <span>There are certain advantages to living in a castle, but Hiccup has to admit plumbing is one of the best. The water smells ever so slightly of sulfur as he draws the bath, but that’s nothing a little soap won’t mask. The tower didn’t get hot running water until he was about ten, so compared to the icy baths of his youth, this was heaven. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup closes his eyes as he sinks into the water, propping his head up against the copper rim of the tub. It’s quiet, even with the faucet’s slow, persistent dripping in the background. He wonders, briefly, if Jack would be able to hear him from the bedchambers if he called out. He brushes the idea away as quickly as it came; he can be alone with his thoughts for the first time in a week, and he’s going to enjoy it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Now that he thinks of it, this might be the first time he’s been alone since the wedding. Every moment has been with Jack, whether it be in their chambers or galavanting around the castle. He can still just barely feel the slight numbness in his arm from where Jack constantly grips it, but even that is fading away with the water’s gentle heat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>He opens his eyes and stares up at the ceiling. The gray stones are the same as always, every crack and blemish as familiar as his own hand. They circle above him like great gray birds. He could count every stone, but he already knows their number.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Jack may have chiseled a niche for himself in Hiccup’s life, but surprisingly, he’d left their surroundings unchanged. It’s just the one trunk beside the wardrobe and a pile of library books, and they blend into the tower like they’ve always been there. Hiccup had expected a dresser or a chair, or some other kind of furniture from Jack’s home, but it was just the trunk. Jack hasn’t even emptied it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>The soap fills his hands with lather, and soon the water turns milky around him with every scrub, scrub, scrub. Hiccup doesn’t even have to think about it; nearly a decade and a half of the same routine tends to do that. Scrub, rinse, repeat. Lather up his hair and brush out the knots. Clean his ears and nose, get all the hard to reach places. There’s something therapeutic about it, almost meditative. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Well, it would be if his brain weren’t a mess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>There’s sunlight peeking through the fogged up windows, and Hiccup’s mind immediately flashes to Jack in the early rays of the morning, his eyes soft and almost awed. Jack turns to look at Hiccup in his mind’s eye, and his expression is just as reverent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup groans and sinks up to his nose in the water. The daydream would be more accurate if Jack was smirking at him, but somehow that doesn’t make his heart slow down. If anything, it gets faster, thundering in his ears like a warhorse on the frontlines. He can hear it even louder underwater, so he pops up again and stares up at the ceiling like the stones will commiserate with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>The stones, of course, are unsympathetic, so Hiccup ducks briefly underwater to rinse out the last of the suds before reaching for his towel. That’s the moment he realizes he hadn’t brought a change of clothes into the bathroom with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>This time, he’s absolutely positive Jack can hear him when he groans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup momentarily debates getting back in the tub and hoping he’ll drain away with the water, but ultimately decides to save that plan for a later date. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> call for Jack and ask for assistance, but the thought of Jack rooting through his clothes immediately puts that plan out of commission. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>There’s no way around it. He’ll have to go out there himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup resists the urge to groan yet again and wraps his towel more firmly around his hips. With a long, deep breath to steel his nerves, Hiccup opens the door and marches into the bedchambers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup can feel Jack’s eyes on him the moment he enters. He does his best to keep his eyes on the floor as he marches to his wardrobe, but the feeling of eyes roving his body doesn’t lessen. He ducks behind his wardrobe door as soon as it’s in reach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Please stop staring,” he borderline squeaks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“I am simply appreciating,” Jack hums, “but as you wish.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>The split second it takes for Jack to look away feels like an eternity, and Hiccup breathes a sigh of relief the moment he no longer feels those unblinking eyes on him. He grabs a tunic and trousers and makes a beeline back to the safety of the bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Come to me when you are finished,” Jack calls out just before Hiccup closes the door. “I will… fix your hair for you.” There’s a hint of nerves in his voice, and Hiccup pauses in his retreat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“I… Y-Yeah, that’d be nice.” It’s a compromise he wasn’t expecting, but Jack brightens considerably. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup shuts the door the rest of the way, that smile stuck in his head. He then sits on the edge of the tub for a moment with his head in his hands and questions his life choices.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Life sufficiently questioned, Hiccup gets dressed and hangs his towel up to dry. He checks the tub one last time to make sure it’s drained properly, then exits the bathroom to where his husband is waiting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Jack looks up from his book with expectant eyes, and Hiccup sighs in defeat. He grabs his hairbrush from the vanity on his way to Jack’s side, then hands it to the fae. He makes to sit next to him, but Jack shakes his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“You are too tall,” he says, gesturing vaguely at Hiccup’s torso. “I will not be able to reach.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>With the couch out of the question, Hiccup sends a prayer to whatever god may be listening and sits on the floor in front of Jack’s feet. He can feel Jack’s icy toes brushing against his back, each like a tiny ice cube even through his tunic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Jack shifts all of Hiccup’s loose, shoulder-length hair to sit behind his neck and starts brushing. Given Jack’s own short hair, Hiccup would have expected him to not know how to handle slightly longer hair, but to his surprise, Jack starts from the ends and works his way slowly up. His touch is cold, but gentle, and Hiccup surprises himself by getting a little drowsy with the slow, repetitive motion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Y-You’re, uh, good at this,” he comments when Jack starts brushing the crown of his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“I often assisted my sisters with their hair,” Jack offers by way of explanation. “Their locks are much longer than yours.” Deft, icy fingers gently part the hair at Hiccup’s crown before continuing to brush, easing out tangles one by one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“You have siblings?” Hiccup can’t recall seeing anyone who looked like Jack at the wedding, other than his mother.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Jack hums and brushes Hiccup’s bangs back from his forehead. “I am the Fifth Heir to Winter,” he explains. “I have four elder siblings and two younger.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Lucky number seven, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Jack laughs and tugs gently on a lock of Hiccup’s hair. “Yes, Mother wanted seven exactly. It is a magical number.” He hums and starts slowly braiding Hiccup’s hair against his scalp. “It seems strange to me that the human royals only had one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup winces, but not from any hair pulling. “Oh, yeah, that’s because… I… Well, I wasn’t the only try.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Oh?” Jack merely sounds curious, not surprised, which Hiccup supposes is a good thing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, then immediately drops his hands when Jack gently swats them away. “Y-Yeah, I think I was the… ninth? Maybe? Mom and Dad tried a bunch of times, but they didn’t…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Jack makes a soft, wounded noise and brushes gentle fingers over Hiccup’s shoulders. “I mourn for their losses.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Hiccup sighs and pats the one still lingering on his shoulder. “Yeah, it’s… sad to think about, but nothing to do about it. I survived, right?” He tries to grin over his shoulder, but when he turns, Jack is frowning down at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>The fae cups Hiccup’s cheek gently, his thumb slowly brushing over Hiccup’s cheekbone. A tiny smile creeps to the corners of his lips, and he leans in to press a kiss to Hiccup’s forehead. “Yes,” he murmurs against Hiccup’s skin, “you did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls back far too quickly and shoos Hiccup away. “I have finished your braid. Go and check that it is to your liking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup blinks, momentarily stunned, but nods and gets to his feet. The face that greets him in the vanity mirror is the same as always, but the hair is unexpected. He tilts his head this way and that, then turns so he can catch a glimpse of the back of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack has artfully arranged his hair into a twisting French braid, held in place not by a tie or ribbon, but a thin piece of woven ice. Hiccup reaches up to touch it, and it sparkles when he moves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, wow,” he murmurs, as more suitable words seem to have escaped for the moment. He turns again to see it from another angle, and the ice shines just the same. “I, uh, I appreciate it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are welcome,” Jack says, and when Hiccup turns, he’s already getting up from the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Going to take your bath now?” he asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm, not just yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Hiccup can ask when he means, Jack grabs the wooden pendant that has been sitting at his breast ever since the wedding and pulls. The cord holding it immediately snaps, and as Jack swings his arm out to the side, the pendant gets longer and longer. A hook arches from the tip of it, the smooth finish giving way to worn bark and frosted details. In seconds, Jack is holding not a piece of jewelry, but a towering shepherd’s crook.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He plants the base of it on the floor and lets go, and the staff stands alone and unaided. Hiccup opens his mouth to question it, but the only sound that comes out is a high pitched squeak. Before his very eyes, the staff is </span>
  <em>
    <span>unfolding.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The crooked end becomes an arm. Shoulders fan out from the top, the notch where crook meets staff growing and rounding into a head. The longest portion of the staff unfolds into long, spindly legs ending in pointed feet. Black, beady eyes blink from a face like knotted wood, and the pattern of knots and bark breaks as a jagged smile tears through.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Husband,” Jack says, gesturing to the monstrosity with a casual hand, “I would like you to meet Twinetender. Twiner for short.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thing </span>
  <em>
    <span>moves,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Hiccup screams and jerks back. He slams into the vanity, making the mirror rattle in its frame. Stick-like fingers part at the end of a wooden arm and wiggle in the facsimile of a wave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The scarecrow-like being tilts its head, and Hiccup shrieks and scrambles to put something, anything, between him and it. “Oh gods, Jack, what the actual </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck?!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack’s brow furrows in confusion, and he exchanges a look with the stick creature, who just shrugs. At least, that’s what Hiccup </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinks</span>
  </em>
  <span> that jerky, shuddering gesture is supposed to be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is Twinetender,” Jack states again, very slowly. “Twiner for short.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That doesn’t explain why he came out of your </span>
  <em>
    <span>jewelry!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack blinks at him, looking distinctly dumbfounded. His frown deepens, and he looks away like Hiccup’s gaze scalds him. Hiccup would almost find it amusing if it weren’t for the other pair of eyes currently staring at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Twiner is my staff,” Jack says, as if that explains absolutely anything. His hands, for once, are clenched at his sides. “He is my oldest friend and companion, and he will be making sure you do not intrude while I am bathing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup gapes at him from where he’s crouched behind his desk. “You summoned a stick monster so I wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>peek on you?!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could have just asked!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Asking guarantees nothing with humans,” Jack points out matter-of-factly. Twiner nods in agreement, and Hiccup is sure he can hear the wood creaking even from twenty feet away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t going to peek!” Hiccup insists, but Jack is already selecting a change of clothes from his trunk and heading to the bathroom. “Wait, don’t leave me with‒”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Too late. Jack disappears behind the bathroom door, and Twiner moves to stand guard in front of it. Hiccup scrambles in the opposite direction and winds up hiding behind a couch like a child playing hide-and-seek. Twiner stares briefly at him, then the creature settles for fiddling with its overly long fingers, which is at least enough of an improvement for Hiccup to downgrade from severe to only moderate anxiety. Hiccup does catch those black voids he guesses one could call eyes glancing at him every few seconds, though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack takes an eternity in the bathroom, or at least that’s what it feels like with Hiccup’s heart jittering like a startled rabbit in his chest. He eventually moves out from behind the couch to perch awkwardly on the edge of the seat. Other than the creaking wooden noises Twiner makes every time he moves and the gentle splashing of the bathtub, the tower is silent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, Hiccup manages to break the quiet with a cough and glances up at Twiner. He doesn’t meet the scarecrow man’s eyes, but instead keeps his gaze on his much less frightening shoulders. “Can… Can you, um, talk?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Twiner looks up from his fidgeting hands and nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup swallows heavily. “Are… Are you going to talk?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Twiner shakes his head and looks back to his fingers. They are, admittedly, interesting fingers. Every knuckle is a whorl of wood, and they end not in nails, but in branch-like curves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup looks down at his knees and tries to keep his hands from shaking. He doesn’t succeed, but at least he put in the effort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he listens closely, he can hear humming coming from the bathroom. He vaguely recognizes the tune as the song Jack was quietly singing to himself the other day, and he focuses on that instead of the wood monster currently guarding his bathroom door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack has a nice voice, he thinks. It’s soft and low, and it distinctly reminds Hiccup of a well-played violin. It’s fitting, he supposes, given the many musical sounds Jack makes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The humming stops abruptly, replaced with the more obvious creaking wood coming from Twiner. Hiccup snaps his eyes open right when Jack emerges. No steam comes billowing around him, nor is there any water on the floor where he steps. Hiccup didn’t even hear the tub draining, if it drained at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nonetheless, Jack’s hair is damp when he emerges, and his skin shines with a sheen like freshly polished marble. He sits in front of the vanity, pushing a few stacks of books aside to more clearly see the mirror. Twiner hands him the hairbrush with two spindly fingers, and Jack shoots the scarecrow thing a small, grateful smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did… Did you have a nice bath?” Hiccup asks once he’s gotten control of his tongue again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did, yes,” Jack says, and he meets Hiccup’s eyes briefly in the mirror before returning his attention to his hair. It looks a little longer than it did before, though that may just be the wet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup gets to shaky feet and shuffles his way to the vanity. Twiner obligingly moves back a little, and Hiccup might have been grateful if it weren’t for the smile Twiner gave him. Apparently the wooden man had acorns instead of teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“M-May I…?” He gestures vaguely to the brush, and Jack blinks owlishly at him for a moment before nodding and handing it over. Hiccup accepts it with shaking fingers and gets to work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack’s hair is cold to the touch, just like the rest of him, but is as soft as Hiccup imagines freshly fallen snow to be. It sparkles when wet, each hair gleaming like a tiny icicle. Hiccup does his best to keep them neat as he brushes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he’s done, he sets the brush down and meets Jack’s eyes in the mirror with a shaky grin. Jack turns his head to take in Hiccup’s work, then beams and grabs Hiccup’s left hand. He presses a kiss to each finger in turn, then turns it over to kiss the center of his palm. By the time Jack is done, Hiccup is as red as Jack’s hair is white.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excellent work, husband,” Jack praises as he slips from his chair. “I will remember your skills in the future.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup isn’t sure if he should be happy or nervous. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack approaches Twiner and reaches out a hand, which the wooden man takes with a bow. In seconds, he’s folded back into a tiny, smooth wooden pendant. Jack summons a cord from seemingly nowhere and restrings the pendant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Assist me,” he orders, holding the necklace out to Hiccup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup flushes pink and takes it, then ties it around Jack’s neck as the fae holds his hair out of the way. The pendant settles at Jack’s collarbone as innocuously as always, and if Hiccup didn’t know better now, he would assume it to just be a simple piece of jewelry. He should have known that nothing about Jack could ever be simple.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, he’s your… staff?” Hiccup asks once Jack has settled on his chosen couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is correct.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup raises an eyebrow and sits opposite Jack. He grabs one of the throw pillows and hugs it to his chest like it will provide decent defense against terrifying wood scarecrow men. “H-How does… how does that work? He’s alive, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course he is.” Jack gives him a funny look and touches the wooden pendant gently. “He is just also a weapon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A sentient weapon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All good weapons are sentient, husband,” Jack says flippantly. He rolls his eyes and leans casually against the armrest like a rich woman in a fancy portrait. “All good weapons have the right to </span>
  <em>
    <span>choose</span>
  </em>
  <span> their wielder</span>
  <em>
    <span>.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So he… chose you?” Hiccup asks. He looks down at the pillow in his lap, but it offers no answers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Jack yawns and squirms around until he’s full on reclining, looking for all the world like a massive cat sunning itself. “As I chose him in return.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that why he came with you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack’s eyes snap open, and he gives Hiccup an incredulous look. “Whatever do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup blinks rapidly, then tilts his head. “Well, no one else came with you, right? All the other fae left shortly after the wedding, including your mother.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack is quiet for a long moment, his gaze on Hiccup’s knees rather than anywhere near his face. He chews on his lip as he thinks, then slowly meets Hiccup’s curious gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are… You are correct.” He slumps a little, and he turns his face away to halfway bury it in a cushion. “Twiner was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> my only accompaniment.” His entire body seems to droop like a wilted flower. Even his ears quiver slightly as he melts into the couch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time, Hiccup ponders just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>lonely</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jack must be. Hiccup may not know his castle well, but at least it’s familiar. Jack was thrust into a completely different plane of existence, with only a talking scarecrow for company. It has to be impossibly isolating. Right now, Jack looks almost as small as he actually is, curled up and staring off into the distance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup clears his throat, and Jack’s eyes snap to him again. “And… And me,” he points out. He chuckles nervously and looks away before Jack’s gaze gets too intense to bear. “You have me, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can see Jack soften slightly out of the corner of his eye, and some of the drooping fades from the fae’s posture. Jack looks at him with evaluating eyes, then smiles, small and slow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Yes, I suppose I do.” A tiny laugh escapes him, and when Hiccup turns to look at him head-on, there’s a slight shimmer to Jack’s eyes. “I do have you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“F-For life now,” Hiccup points out. He raises his left hand and waggles his ring finger, where the engraved wedding band shines like a golden promise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack looks down at his own ring, the runes as covered in frost as they had been on their wedding day. Hiccup remembers engraving those runes, remembers carving them in so small and delicate they can hardly be seen except from close up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For life,” Jack murmurs. He says it strangely, like words in a foreign language he’s still learning to pronounce. His smile softens as he turns his hand over, his ring shining in the light. “Perhaps we can both become used to that.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Currently working on the next few chapters! Real life is a mess, but I’m hoping to get to something of a decent schedule. I make no promises, but hope you stick around anyway!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. In which history is strange</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Every child on Berk knows how the war began. It is taught in every school, every class, every curriculum. Every mother and father tells the story of how, centuries ago, the Unseelie King stole the queen of Berk in the middle of the night and launched the country into chaos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fae know a different story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the fae, it began with an apple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the queen was stolen, before a war was declared, before humans had even learned how to wield iron, a man wandered into the forest. Why he wandered or what he found along the way is unknown, as he never told a soul nor wrote it down, but eventually, he walked through Faerie and into the garden of the Unseelie King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King’s garden was vast and glorious, with more flowers than could ever be named and more fruit than could ever be tasted, and at the center is a magnificent apple tree. It blooms not in flowers, but in carefully crafted jewels, and every apple that hangs from its branches is made of solid gold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man saw this tree, saw the treasure trove dangling just within reach, and plucked a single apple. The moment the fruit was in his hand, terror struck him, and he fled with the instinctual fear of a deer spotted by a wolf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thievery is not looked upon fondly in Faerie, least of all among royalty. The Unseelie King knew the moment the apple was gone from his realm and, enraged, sent his daughter to steal something from the man in turn. The princess stole the man’s newborn son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fae would consider the affair even, an eye for an eye and a treasure for a treasure, but that is not how humans work. The man gathered his countrymen and stormed into Faerie to retrieve the child, but only a handful survived. Word spread, and more humans gathered to seek vengeance, justice, or any number of things men say they are fighting for. It all ended with bloodshed and losses on both sides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Humans kept coming, and fae kept fighting. During battles, some fae took humans for their own amusement. Others merely killed them, which many considered the more merciful option. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Humans invented ways to protect themselves; they forged iron, mined salt, harvested rowan. The fae only came in larger waves, with stronger magic and fiercer fighters</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It escalated slowly at first, then spread like wildfire. The princess of the Unseelie was killed, and her father stole the human queen in retribution. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Berk officially declared war on its magical neighbors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A war does not start when a declaration is given. It starts long before that, when the transgressions are—debatably—minor, when the garden is lush and the briars have yet to choke their competition. A war starts with a seed, and seeds have a terrible habit of growing.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Hiccup learned history the way every other child does. His tutor condensed it so he could understand, six years old and struggling to grasp the concept of war. The war began before they started counting their years, so the exact date in his history book is sketchy at best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The declaration was written by King Mogadon I,” his tutor says. “Before the war, Berk had no formal military, so one was organized after the declaration. The war didn’t properly start until a few months later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup is assigned a paragraph essay on the start of the war and why he thought King Mogadon I decided on formal warfare in the first place. He manages to write it in about an hour, and his tutor praises his penmanship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is no paragraph essay when his mother disappears. They never say dead or gone, only lost, like his mother was a trinket someone forgot to pick up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She vanishes on the evening of his seventh birthday. If Hiccup thinks hard enough, he can remember her coming into his room that night, just after he’d gone to bed. He can remember her singing and kissing his head, then the head of the stuffed dragon she’d given him that day. The memory aches if he thinks on it too long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still has that dragon. It sits on his bookshelf, partially hidden by novels and clutter. He tries not to look at it too much. Something about its embroidered eyes makes his chest hurt.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Sunday is quiet all the way up til noon. The calm is broken by a summons from the king, which Hiccup accepts with a weary sigh. He knew it would come eventually, but at the same time, he’d kind of hoped to avoid the confrontation a little while longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack looks up from his book, the last of his massive stack, when Hiccup calls him to the door. “Am I correct in assuming your father has discovered the bell?” He sounds absolutely delighted by the notion, and Hiccup has to keep himself from sighing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most likely, yeah,” he says as Jack loops his arm through Hiccup’s. It almost feels routine. “We’ve been called to his study.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s better than the dining hall, but only marginally. His father’s study is private and thus less likely to have eavesdroppers; calling them there is practically saying “we need to talk”. Hiccup can’t recall ever being formally called there before; in fact, he barely remembers how to get there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack, on the other hand, doesn’t seem bothered. He’s light as a breeze at Hiccup’s side, humming even as Hiccup drags his feet. They take a few wrong turns on their walk, but they eventually reach the door to Stoick’s study.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s much smaller and simpler than the doors to the dining hall, but Hiccup feels more intimidated at the sight of it than he did at the threshold of the dining hall mere days before. He raises a hand to knock, hesitates a moment, then raps his knuckles against the wood three times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raps again, and this time, he hears a scraping and a shuffling from within. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in,” says a gruff voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup glances at his husband before obeying. Jack squeezes his arm a little tighter, maybe in solidarity, but more likely as an act of possessiveness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His father’s study is surprisingly orderly. The wall directly facing the door is lined with a set of delicately wrought windows that leave spiderweb shadows on the floor. The oak desk is as massive as the man who uses it, the chair even more so. To the right is a wall of bookshelves, and standing in front of it is his father. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The king looks up from the scroll he’d been scanning and gestures for them to close the door. Jack nudges it closed with his foot, and Stoick accepts this with a huff. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stoick doesn’t move to sit, so Hiccup remains standing. Jack glances at the desk like he’s thinking of hopping up on it, but luckily, he doesn’t move from Hiccup’s side. Hiccup allows himself a moment to be relieved, but it doesn’t last long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The captain of the guard has informed me that the belltower has been sabotaged,” the king says. He levels Jack with a serious look, but the fae’s grin doesn’t waver. If anything, it grows wider.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is undamaged, father-in-law,” Jack chirps. Hiccup swears he can </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> his smirk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t work anymore,” Stoick points out flatly. “I would consider that to be damage enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack tilts his head slightly, the top of his fringe barely brushing Hiccup’s arm. “A new bell can be forged.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not for several months.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All the better, then. Perhaps by then, the castle populace will no longer require it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stoick pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a long, deep breath. “Jack, removing the bell will not remove my restrictions. If anything, I am tempted to restrict you two even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I would much prefer if you didn’t do that,” Hiccup pipes up for the first time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both their gazes immediately snap to him, and he shrinks in on himself. If only he could hide in his own skin like a turtle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I agree.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup glances at Jack, who has turned his burning gaze back to Stoick. “My prince is an adult. He should be allowed to control his own schedule.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are not discussing that.” Stoick’s voice is harder than his expression, but Jack doesn’t wilt under his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It will need to be discussed eventually,” he says. “I do not see why it cannot be discussed now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup can see a vein popping in the corner of his father’s forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can… Can we discuss the bell again?” he asks quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stoick gestures to him with one hand, the other clenched at his side. “Yes, let’s discuss the </span>
  <em>
    <span>bell. </span>
  </em>
  <span>A bell that has been used for over a hundred years, now </span>
  <em>
    <span>useless.</span>
  </em>
  <span>The belltower was constructed shortly after the war was declared. Over six hundred years of tradition do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> vanish with the whims of one man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know why it was put in place?” Jack asks. Stoick’s glare darkens, but Jack forges on. “I have read every book your library has on the beginning of the war.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you’ll know it was created to help protect the castle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know it was created as a method of warding off fae.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup glances rapidly between his father and his spouse, unsure just where this conversation was going. Jack is steady at his side, calm even in the shadow of Stoick’s might.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are at peace, now, father-in-law.” Jack’s voice is almost gentle as he slips his arm from Hiccup’s. He steps closer to Stoick, looking up and up and up in order to meet the king’s eyes. “Your people do not even know the bell’s original purpose, not after six hundred years. There is no need for an ancient ward anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stoick looks down at his tiny son-in-law. The silence is palpable, and Hiccup holds his breath lest he somehow break it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels like an eternity before Stoick’s shoulders drop, and he falls into his massive chair with a long sigh. He rubs his temples, gently easing away the pulsing vein, then meets Jack’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We will need another method of keeping time. The guard manages hourly rotations without the bell, but the rest of the staff uses it to mark their midday breaks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack grins and grabs Hiccup’s hand. “My prince can assist with that! I have gone through his notebooks, and he has a great many ideas for furthering the country’s technological advances.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup flushes bright red as his father’s gaze falls on him. “I-I, uh, they’re… they’re just… you </span>
  <em>
    <span>looked through</span>
  </em>
  <span> my </span>
  <em>
    <span>sketchbooks?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack shrugs, his eyes sparkling impishly. “I had to find some way to entertain myself while you slept.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup can be indignant about that later. Right now, his father is looking at him with something almost like curiosity, and he’s unsure how to feel about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this true, Hiccup?” Stoick asks levelly. He steeples his fingers and meets his son’s eyes evenly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup’s flush only gets darker, much to Jack’s obvious delight. The fae is practically preening at his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, um… I… yes?” He looks at Jack, for reassurance or comfort even he doesn’t know, and gets a cheery grin in return. It’s not helpful, but it does settle his nerves a little bit. “They’re just ideas, a-and sketches, of course, so I’ll… I’ll need to make prototypes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stoick considers this for a few longer seconds, then nods. “I will let Gobber know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup blinks. “Wait, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stoick meets his gaze dryly. “If you are going to make prototypes, you’ll need a workspace. Your chambers are not suited or equipped for your…. inventing.” He says the word slowly, almost hesitantly, but doesn’t take it back. “I trust Gobber with my life; I know I can trust him with your safety.” He glances briefly at Jack, who scowls and squeezes Hiccup’s hand harder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” Hiccup’s throat works for a moment as his mind struggles to figure out what just happened. “Um… thank you. Father. Uh, dad. Sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stoick lets out a soft noise that might have been a chuckle and shakes his head. “We will put the bell on </span>
  <em>
    <span>hold</span>
  </em>
  <span> for now. If these prototypes of yours don’t work out, then we’ll have a new one forged.” He gestures to the door. “You are dismissed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Th-Thank you,” Hiccup says again. He dips into a quick bow, which Jack mimics at his side. He backs out of the door with an awkward wave, then turns to Jack when it closes behind them. “What… just happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack beams up at him, every sharp, white tooth on display. “You, my prince, just became a blacksmith.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The last time Hiccup had been in the forge, it was to make his wedding rings. A ring is not an overly complicated thing to make, but it does take practice and a steady hand. Hiccup had had neither of those things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands shook as he poured the metal, as he shaped them, as he engraved the runes. They were far from perfect, but Gobber insisted a fae groom would appreciate a ring Hiccup made himself far more than one made by a stranger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After living with Jack for a week, Hiccup is inclined to agree.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the rings, the last time Hiccup worked in the forge was when he was six years old and could barely lift a hammer. His mother encouraged his desire to make things, but after she disappeared, the king declared the forge too dangerous for a child that small.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hasn’t changed in all that time, and Hiccup suspects it never will. Gobber has his own system, and as long as he’s the chief blacksmith, no one dares try to change it. The forge seems smaller when he can actually see over the top of the counters, even more so with a ceiling lower than it should be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room is lined with counters, tools of every size imaginable hung from every hook Gobber could cram between the stones. Metal ingots sit underneath, along with boxes of bits and bobs from who knows where. The forge itself takes up most of the back wall, with two barrels, one of oil and one of water, ready to quench whatever Gobber pulls out. An anvil takes up center stage, with a grinding stone pushed to the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack, still holding tight to Hiccup’s elbow, pointedly gives both the anvil and the counters a wide berth. He presses close to Hiccup’s side as they edge closer to the forge, where Gobber is loudly shouting at a metal rod shoved deep into the flames.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heat faster, you sad excuse for a backscratcher! I’ve half a mind to smelt you into a nose spoon!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup coughs pointedly, and Gobber jolts before turning and fixing the two royals with a disgruntled glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t you see I’m‒oh, Hiccup!” The blacksmith’s ire immediately melts away, and he straightens with a lopsided grin. “Good to see you, lad! Didn’t think I’d see you so soon after the wedding, though. What’s the occasion?” That seems to be the moment Gobber notices Jack, who is half a step behind Hiccup and glaring at the sparking forge like it’s offended his ancestors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit!” Gobber backs up a step, wide eyes rapidly flickering between Hiccup and his husband. “Hiccup, why on earth would you bring </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> here?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup clears his throat and glances over his shoulder at his husband. Jack doesn’t even look away from the apparently offensive forge. “I, uh… Dad said I can work on prototypes here? For a… timepiece?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gobber snorts and scoots just a few inches further away, like he’s expecting Jack to lash out and bite him. “You don’t need your dad’s permission to work here! And that doesn’t explain why you brought your new paramour to the biggest collection of iron in the castle!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup flushes a little at the word “paramour”, but doesn’t comment on it. “I… don’t think he’s gonna let me out of his sight anytime soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack squeezes his arm in apparent agreement and finally looks away from the forge to stare inquisitively at Gobber. Gobber lets out a string of swears that most certainly should not be said in the presence of royalty and grabs a pair of tongs to brandish in their general direction, which is odd considering his other hand is currently a hammer. Jack lets out a small, tittering laugh and digs his fingers into Hiccup’s sleeve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I most certainly am not leaving my husband until I can be sure of his safety,” Jack quips, pointedly looking at Gobber’s defensive tongs. “Regardless of how much iron is concentrated in this room.” He glares at the various tools and equipment around them, most notably the anvil. If looks could kill, that anvil would be a puddle on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gobber lowers his tongs, but doesn’t put them down just yet. “I know a royal when I see one; if you weren’t a royal, you couldn’t have even set foot in here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack shrugs. “Would you expect your prince to be betrothed to a common fae?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gobber snorts. “No, I suppose not.” He sets the tongs on the nearest counter and looks Jack up and down. “Do all your royals dress so fancy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do all your blacksmiths have missing limbs?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gobber narrows his eyes, then throws back his head in laughter. “I like you! You got spunk.” He turns back to the forge and the still heating rod. “You’ll have to dodge the iron on your own, though. I don’t have any fancy tools or tricks that’ll keep you from burning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would not expect you to.” Jack looks up at Hiccup and tugs on his arm. “Will you be needing your sketchbooks in order to begin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup blinks down at him. “Uh, probably, yeah. Should we head back to get them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack shakes his head. “No need.” He lets go of Hiccup’s arm with one hand and reaches out into nothingness. A split second later, he pulls out two of Hiccup’s sketchbooks. The latest ones, Hiccup notes after a quick glance. “Will these two suffice, or will you also need the others?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup stares for a moment, then slowly reaches out to take them. “Um, no, I think… I think these will be fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack hands him the books, then releases Hiccup’s arm and neatly hops onto a counter out of reach of the forge’s sparks. He folds his skirt around him, and the few tools that had been scattered near him quickly push themselves out of arm’s reach. He makes a “go on” motion with his hand, apparently ready to stand guard like a particularly odd watchdog.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup turns away and lets him; Jack isn’t showing any signs of discomfort, and he did want to start working.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should probably use wood for the first few attempts at the mechanism,” he says to himself, already digging through a crate of assorted scraps. Hilts and handles take a lot of wood, and he finds plenty of suitable pieces soon enough. He lays them out on the counter and mentally checks off the sizes and shapes depicted in his original drawing, then gets to work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup has heard of villages keeping time with nails stuck in candles. When the flame melts the wax, the nail falls and makes a noise. That wouldn’t be useful en masse, though, and it needed to be constantly reset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sundials are a possibility, but require sunlight to be accurate, and sunlight in Berk is inconsistent at best. Not to mention they’re hardly portable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he wants something that could keep consistent time on its own, without a fire hazard and without dependence on the weather, it would have to be something new. The idea sends a bolt of excitement through Hiccup, his mind already racing with possibilities. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The most feasible option is a geared contraption. Hiccup remembers a diagram he’d seen of a mill, of the massive wheel and its interconnecting parts that made the millstones crush together over and over. He wouldn’t be able to use a river as a power source, but maybe something that used its own tension… Something quite a bit smaller...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifts his head hours later, only to find the sun low on the horizon and Gobber poking him with a newly carved axe handle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that I’m not happy to have you around,” the old blacksmith says, “but we both have shit to do. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been smelling dinner cookin’ for the past hour, and it’s been driving me mad!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup blinks and glances from Gobber to the collection of small carved gears laid out in front of him. “How… It’s been that long?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gobber snorts and shoos him away from the counter. “Yep! For a moment there, it looked like your hubby was fit to fall asleep!” Jack shoots Gobber a look, but the blacksmith ignores it and pulls out a small metal box. “Put all your work in here, then get to dinner. Work’ll still be there in the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup feels his ears flush and scurries to obey. Jack, still sitting in the exact same spot, watches him with curious eyes as he sets the rough gears and hastily drawn drafts into the proffered box.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are the little teeth meant to lock together?” he asks, peering into the box but carefully not touching it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yes, hopefully.” Hiccup drops in the last gear, then shuts the box and dusts off the counter. Sawdust fills the air, and he coughs and waves the cloud away from his face. “The gears together make something different move in a measured way, so I was… I was thinking that maybe, we could use that movement to calculate time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack nods, and the sawdust immediately dispels. He hops down from the counter and loops his arm through Hiccup’s without even looking. “It would be preferable to the bell’s incessant noise, at the very least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup snorts and pats the tiny hand hooked in his elbow. “Glad you approve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>beams, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Hiccup has to look away very quickly to avoid spluttering like a recently caught fish. He’s only moderately successful, but Jack laughs at his attempt, so he supposes he’ll call it a win.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gobber waves goodnight and heads off. Once he’s out of sight, Hiccup tucks a few tools into the metal box and slips it under his arm. It wasn’t like he couldn’t work in their chambers, right?</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“You are remarkably dreadful at being sneaky, husband,” Jack says halfway to their chambers. His eyes sparkle with something Hiccup would almost call fondness, but was more likely to be amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup looks away and clears his throat, but there’s no missed the way his cheeks burn. “I, uh, don’t… know what you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack laughs and gets up on tiptoe to press a kiss to the side of Hiccup’s neck. This in no way helps Hiccup’s blush. “You are also,” he hums against Hiccup’s throat, “a remarkably bad liar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack drops back down to flat feet and tugs Hiccup into moving a little faster. “You are the </span>
  <em>
    <span>prince,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he points out as they pass through yet another winding corridor. “No one would refuse you if you simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>request</span>
  </em>
  <span> what you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup can’t help a tiny snort, and Jack looks up at him with raised eyebrows. Hiccup clears his throat, cheeks still burning, and shakes his head. “Sorry, but you don’t know Gobber. If anyone would say no to me, it’s him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His husband’s eyes narrow into dangerous slits. “Is that a problem, my prince?” Jack asks, his voice a low growl. “If need be, I will‒”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! No, that’s‒that’s fine!” Hiccup laughs weakly and tries not to look too deeply into those pupil-less eyes. “Gobber’s basically family; if he says no to me, it’s because he thinks it’s for my own good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack frowns, but his gaze softens into something more relaxed and less predatory, thank the gods. “Should that not be for you to decide?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, probably?” Hiccup shrugs and keeps his eyes ahead. “But everyone needs someone looking out for them, you know? No man is an island and all that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack’s frown turns into a bewildered look that reminds Hiccup of Rose when she got hit with that snowball a few days previous. “I know you are not an island. Why would you need to state that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup laughs for real this time and shakes his head. “No, no, it’s a figure of speech. It’s supposed to mean no one can do everything alone.” He brushes his bangs away from his face and tries not to notice how Jack’s eyes follow the movement. “Human language has tons of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack, if anything, only looks more bewildered. “Why do you not simply say what you mean? Your language is complicated enough without idioms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Hiccup admits with a shrug. “It’s just the way it is. Language is weird, and it changes a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack hums a soft, questioning note and turns his gaze to the walk ahead. “Many things in Faerie do not change,” he says, so quietly Hiccup almost thinks he didn’t say anything at all. “And the things that do change too fast to keep track.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds confusing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes, yes. It is why so many humans become lost in our lands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, even the land changes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack blinks up at him, one eyebrow quirked like a question. “Of course. Either nothing changes, or everything does. There is not this slow method of change that you humans seem so fond of.” He snorts and shakes his head. “How do you even keep track?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t, really,” Hiccup says. “We just kind of know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That only makes it more confusing. Why not simply do all the changing and growing at once and get it over with?” Jack almost sounds </span>
  <em>
    <span>grumpy,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Hiccup has to smother a laugh before he accidentally offends the fae.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t,” he says, still holding in a stubborn giggle. He clears his throat, and it finally dissolves. “We’re just like that I guess. Full of slow transitions and little changes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you have far too many of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup thinks of Jack's awe at the sight of a sunrise and wonders.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry that this chapter took so long; its been a rough couple of weeks, and the words just weren't happening. I'm trying to roll out chapters as soon as I can, but real life and job hunting have to come first!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. In which teeth are inspected</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next morning starts with a pair of beetle black eyes two inches from Hiccup’s face. Hiccup shrieks and jolts away, and his forehead smacks directly into a pointy wooden nose. He yelps and grabs his face, and a sound like a bug walking on glass emits from above him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Twiner, leave him alone; he has not even had breakfast yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup groans and turns to glare in the direction of Jack’s voice. “Why the fuck did you summon him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack chuckles from his seat by the window, his silver gown pooled in his lap like liquid metal. “Twiner is an excellent conversationalist, my prince. Waiting for you to wake up can be terribly boring.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which is why you looked through</span>
  <em>
    <span> all of my sketchbooks?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While Twiner makes his ambling way to Jack’s side, Hiccup rolls to the edge of the bed and pushes himself to his feet. He smothers a yawn and stumbles to the dining table. It’s eggs today, and to his relief, Jack’s porcelain bowl is already empty. Any day that begins without Jack’s horrible slurping is off to a good start. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Across the room, Twiner offers a hand to Jack, who accepts it and stands. He nods to the massive scarecrow man, who grins his acorn grin and bows before folding back into a pendant. It falls easily into Jack’s palm, and he restrings and ties it around his neck as he glides to Hiccup’s side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will not be able to go to the forge just yet, husband,” Jack says as Hiccup rapidly shovels down food.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup frowns around a mouthful of eggs and swallows with a bit of difficulty. “Why not? There isn’t anything else planned today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, there is,” Jack corrects, and if Hiccup didn’t know any better, he’d say the fae almost sounded </span>
  <em>
    <span>chipper.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “My dowry is arriving today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup drops his fork. “Wait, </span>
  <em>
    <span>dowry?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack frowns and tilts his head. “You did not think I would come without one, did you? Fae or not, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> royalty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup stoops down to pick up his fork and wipes it off on a napkin, but can’t quite get himself to keep eating. “I, uh, I guess I thought it had already arrived?” It would make sense, right? Get the dowry situated so Jack could be comfortable?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack just laughs. “No, trust me, you will need my help sorting through it. And that is not even taking the wedding presents into account.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup is suddenly very glad he hadn’t gone back to eating; he’s fairly certain he would have choked. Gifts from the fae were never a good thing; more often than not, they would be more curse than blessing. A gift was never </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> a gift; they were always more like trades.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seeming to sense his thoughts, Jack lays a gentle hand on his arm. Despite himself, Hiccup finds himself soothed by the chill emanating from Jack’s fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wedding gifts do not follow normal rules,” Jack assures him. “They are given freely, but only because the courts use them to show off.” He laughs, and the sound makes the last bit of tension melt from Hiccup’s shoulders. “Expect them to be ridiculously ostentatious, husband, but do not expect to give in return.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup nods once and slowly starts eating again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we are lucky, the gifts will not even be sapient.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack has to pound Hiccup on the back for a good ten seconds until he can breathe again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Hiccup was able to eat breakfast without it winding up in his lungs, he dresses and they head to the entrance hall. They haven’t even made it through the door when they hear the rustling, moving, and banging of gods know how many items against stone floors. There’s boxes and crates nearly all the way to the vaulted ceilings, and Hiccup can’t even count the sheer number of colors clashing and colliding everywhere. His eyes move from a bolt of shining fabric to a shivering crate to a basket of beautiful fruit in rapid succession. It’s too much to take in with only one look, but by the gods, is he going to try. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Careful, that is crystalized starlight! It would take centuries to replace!” says an unfamiliar female voice, startling Hiccup out of his staring. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack brightens considerably, a massive grin spreading across his face, and that is all the warning Hiccup gets before he’s being dragged into the entrance hall and towards a rapidly moving green figure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Toothiana!” Jack calls, and the figure stills long enough for Hiccup to register a heart-shaped face and a multitude of feathers before his ears are being assaulted by an ungodly squeal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Snowflake!” the figure cries, and she zooms forward so quickly she leaves an after image behind. Jack laughs and dashes forward to meet her, and the two spin round and round, their laughter mingling in a musical display.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they finally still, Jack squeezes the other fae for a long moment before pulling back to look her in the eyes. “You never said you were visiting!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fairy laughs and squishes his cheeks. “If I did, it would ruin the surprise!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s the kind of fae Hiccup remembers seeing in old storybooks, all delicate limbs and bright colors. Her wings are a lavender blur behind her, her feathered body covered in feathers of all shades of blue and green. She laughs again and holds Jack at arm’s length.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your mother asked me to help deliver your dowry,” she explains cheerily. She holds up a hand when it looks like Jack is about to interrupt. “Yes, yes, I am not part of her Court, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> your friend, and that is what matters.” She beams and cradles his face in both hands. “Look at you! Gorgeous as ever!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack laughs and nudges her hands away. “Flatterer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I only speak the truth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup clears his throat, and two sets of pupil-less eyes immediately fix on him. The green fae, Toothiana, Hiccup assumes, brightens the moment she sees him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooh, is this the lucky bridegroom?” She zips towards him, and before Hiccup has a chance to protest, there are fingers in his mouth. Toothiana hums as she rummages around his gums, her tiny nails tapping at his molars. “Strong teeth, no cavities… Ooh, no wisdom teeth! I did not know humans found a way to remove them!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tooth, fingers,” Jack interrupts. Hiccup can just barely see him around all the feathers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oop! Right, right, apologies!” She giggles sheepishly and removes her hands, departing with a pat to Hiccup’s cheek. “They are lovely, but you need to floss more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh…” Hiccup blinks at her, then looks to his husband. “Can I… get some introductions?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack jolts, and his cheeks turn a delicate shade of blue. It takes Hiccup a moment to realize he’s actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>blushing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Yes, of course. Husband, this is Toothiana, of the Summer Court. She is a personal friend of mine. Toothiana, this is Prince Hiccup, my husband.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Toothiana curtsies in midair, or at least, Hiccup assumes she’s curtsying, since she isn’t actually wearing clothes. “Lovely to make your acquaintance!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup nods politely, but his gaze immediately drifts back to Jack. He’s never heard Jack say his name before, and some part of him wants him to say it again. Jack just smiles at him, too wide and too sharp as always, and he pushes the feeling aside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, uh, this is the dowry, huh?” He looks around the entrance hall, which is looking less like an entrance and more like a mismatched bazaar. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only the best for a royal wedding,” Toothiana chimes in. She darts between one stack of boxes and another, barely avoiding the few servants still moving things around. “All the courts sent something for the dowry, as well as a gift! Or gifts, in some cases.” What looks like it might be a chair starts teetering down, and she nimbly catches it and sets it on its feet again. “Practical things, fanciful things, extravagant things… Everyone loves the chance to show off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup snorts softly and takes in the piles upon piles of things. “I think that might be an understatement.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack laughs, apparently agreeing, and loops his arm through Hiccup’s. Hiccup swears that that elbow is going to be chilled for the rest of his days. “It is a way to show off and to strengthen political ties. Of course it will be a bit ridiculous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Again, understatement.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As you say, love.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup nearly chokes on his saliva. He stares down at Jack’s smiling face, his heart hammering in his ears. Had he actually heard him right? Did Jack </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> just call him </span>
  <em>
    <span>love?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently, now is not the time to find out, because Jack is already dragging him towards the nearest stack of goods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It seems endless. There are cups and goblets, blankets and linens, all the sorts of things one would expect from a dowry, but then there are the stranger items. The chair Toothiana had saved could apparently multiply or merge according to how many seats were needed. There are seven bolts of sheer white fabric that can keep out all chills. There’s a drinking horn that can also be played as an instrument despite its lack of holes, a mirror made of polished gold, and a set of cart wheels that never slide or break. Jack and Toothiana zoom through the items, and Hiccup finds himself struggling just to keep up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Halfway through the third stack, Jack grins and picks up a simple clay jar. “Husband, you will love this!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hands it to Hiccup, and immediately he can feel almost unbearable heat emanating from it. If it nearly hurt Hiccup, he can’t help but think it must have been painful for Jack to even touch. He glances at his husband’s hands, but Jack is grinning at him and nodding expectantly at the jar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, uh, what is it?” Hiccup finally asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A jar of sunfire,” Jack explains. He’s practically bouncing with glee. “It is unquenchable, will not spread beyond the chosen hearth, and is always at the required temperature!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup lets out a low whistle and looks at the jar with newfound appreciation. “Gobber will </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack laughs and bumps his head against Hiccup’s arm. “As will you, I suspect!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not everything is as immediately useful as the sunfire, however. There are several chests of gold and jewels that get sent to the treasury, as well as a couple of baskets woven from golden reeds. There are a variety of seeds and bulbs that will be lovely come planting season, but for now can only be set aside to wait. He finds jars of spices Jack assures him will never run out, which he’s sure Tiana will be thrilled with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>About halfway through both the dowry and the morning, Jack calls him over to something far more interesting. Sitting in a massive silver pot is a gleaming tree. It’s as silver as its vessel, and if it weren’t for the branches laden with heavy golden fruit, Hiccup might have assumed it was just a decoration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“From the Unseelie King’s garden,” Jack explains, looking up into the gently waving branches. Strange, since there isn’t a breeze. “Will it be safe for the mortals?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The question is addressed to Toothiana, who immediately zooms over. She looks over the tree from root to branch tip, her vibrant eyes flickering rapidly. Despite the speed, Hiccup has a feeling she sees every detail. After a long moment, she nods and beams at the two of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Once it has been planted in mortal soil, it will be perfectly safe,” she says, reaching down to pat the silver pot. She looks up into the branches again, her expression suddenly solemn. “Hopefully the fruit will change from apples to something more… appropriate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack visibly winces, and Hiccup looks between the two fae with obvious confusion. Neither explains, however, and the tree is sent to be planted in the garden. Hiccup quietly notes that the chosen spot is on the opposite side from his mother’s memorial.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wide sorting of the dowry takes the rest of the morning, and likely would have taken longer if not for Toothiana’s rapid fire ordering. Hiccup suspects she put a little magic into her words so the servants would move faster, but he has no proof either way. Finally, though, the last stack is sorted out, and Toothiana pulls them back into the center of the hall with a wide smile on her lovely face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have yet to give </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> contribution to the dowry,” she explains.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup’s eyebrows threaten to vanish into his bangs. “There’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>more?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Toothiana laughs and shakes her head. “Only one more, but it is a good one.” She gestures Jack closer and cups her hands together in front of her chest. As the royal couple watches, light shoots out between her fingers, casting her face in dark shadow before dimming and vanishing. Her clasped hands cheep, and when she unfolds them, a tiny version of herself is settled on her palms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack’s breath hitches. He reaches out a trembling hand to touch the creature’s tiny cheek. “Oh, Tooth, I… I cannot possibly…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can, and you have,” she gently insists. She extends her hands towards him, and the tiny fairy squeaks in greeting. “You have already Named her; she has been yours ever since. This is simply… making it official.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack covers his mouth with a shaking hand, and Hiccup swears he can see tears welling up in the fae’s eyes. He makes a soft, wounded sound and offers the little fairy his hand. She makes a noise like a silver chime and flutters into his palm. Jack lifts her to his face and brushes the top of her head with his nose, the large yellow feather swaying with his breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello, Baby Tooth,” he whispers, and the little fairy reaches up to wipe his tears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup looks between Jack and Tooth, the latter of which gives him a small smile and touches his arm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give him a moment,” she murmurs, just barely loud enough for him to hear. “This is probably the best time to send for lunch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He heeds her advice, and by the time he returns from speaking to the nearest servant, Jack has wiped his eyes and looks as cheery as ever. Baby Tooth is nestled on his shoulder, a bright spot of green against his pale skin and silver gown.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a quick break for lunch, comprised of sandwiches and Toothiana making strange faces at everything but the sweets, they’re set to go through presents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This,” Toothiana warns as they approach the castle’s massive entrance, “is when it gets… overwhelming.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pushes open the large wooden doors with surprising strength, and a wall of sound hits them full force. If the dowry was vast, the wedding gifts are an ocean. There’s crashing and singing, animal cries and musical notes, thousands of things moving and adjusting without any servants’ help. Hiccup’s eyes go wide when he spots what looks like a life size glass peacock walk by.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m… starting to see what you mean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup vaguely remembers his father receiving gifts before the wedding, but that is nothing compared to what the fae courts sent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why is there so much?” he asks as he looks over a massive, intricately carved candle in the shape of Yggdrasil. “I thought there were only, like, six courts!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both Jack and Toothiana burst out laughing. Jack loops his arm through Hiccup’s and shakes his head. “No, no, there are far more than that,” he explains. “There are Seelie and Unseelie, and the Seasonal Courts, but those are broad categories. Think of it like a tree.” He takes Hiccup’s hand and guides it to the wax base of the candle. Even unlit, it feels warm to the touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The trunk is a large court, like the Winter Court, for example,” Jack says. “It is the largest and most powerful of the group, but there are more courts within it, like branches.” He guides Hiccup’s hand up the carved trunk and over thick wax limbs laden with leaves. “And within these courts, there are even more as the categories are narrowed down.” Their index fingers trace over branches and twigs, and a carved squirrel flicks its tail at them. “On and on, seemingly infinite but not.” Jack guides Hiccup’s fingers to a delicate wax leaf and releases his hand. “Each court has royals and subjects and jurisdictions, but they are all part of the same tree.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup stares at the candle for another long moment before pulling his hand away. “That’s… surprisingly organized.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack laughs again and gets on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Even nature is perfectly organized, husband!” he chirps, then glides away to look over more gifts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup sighs and looks at a gleaming wedding chalice set on top of its tray, both silver. It hovers slightly above the pile of gifts, and it only takes a glance to tell it’s full of wine. He very gingerly pushes the floating tray towards where Toothiana is gathering up anything dish or food related.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, I don’t want to spill this,” he says, nodding to the chalice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Toothiana lights up the moment she sees it. “Oh, a wedding chalice!” She darts over and picks up the cup with both hands. The wine sloshes dangerously inside, but doesn’t spill. “Someone is very traditional!” She lifts it up to look at the bottom, where Hiccup can just make out a maker’s mark in the shape of a shamrock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But why is it already full?” he asks as he sets the hovering tray next to a set of pure gold dishes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s enchanted, of course,” Toothiana says in a tone like she is explaining something obvious to someone either young or incredibly unobservant. She lowers the chalice back onto its tray and taps the lip. “The wine is bottomless, so long as the marriage is good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup blinks at her. “I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Toothiana beams, and just like Jack, her smile spreads far too wide. “Make sure that you do.” She pats his cheek gently, then flits away, leaving Hiccup blinking rapidly behind her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup stares in the direction she left for a long moment, then shakes his thoughts away and goes to make himself useful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has moderate success, at least. Most of the items, he has no idea what to do with. The peacock he had seen earlier is, indeed, made entirely of glass and gemstones. It is also extremely ornery, and apparently glass beaks peck just as hard as normal ones. He makes a note to make some kind of menagerie for the thing, and also to avoid said menagerie as much as possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Any non-living items are much easier to sort; a rug that Jack explains was woven from sunbeams is sent to their quarters, and a sword made of unbreakable glass is sent to his father’s study for display. A glittering astrolabe that, when used, projects a moving, accurate rendition of the stars is given to the astronomy tower, where it will no doubt see much use during the day and on cloudy nights. A dagger with a bone handle inscribed with the moon phases is sent to the royal armory, as is a delicate set of jeweled throwing knives.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s debating on where to send a massive bathtub apparently made from a single crystal when Jack calls him over. There’s a glowing, two-handled cup in the fae’s hands, and he lifts it slightly when Hiccup approaches.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know what this is?” Jack looks down at the cup with furrowed brows. “It was made from a star, but I am unfamiliar with this style of cup.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup smiles and takes the cup from him; surprisingly, it’s as cool to the touch as any metal, though quite a bit lighter. “It’s a loving cup,” he explains. “It’s an old Viking tradition for newlyweds to drink from the same loving cup as a sign of their union.” He tilts the cup slightly, revealing tiny clawed feet on the bottom. “I’ve never seen one made of a star, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack laughs and plucks the cup from his hands. “You have seen other things made from stars, husband,” he says with a chuckle. “This is not so different.” He looks down at the cup, the glow reflecting in his eyes. “It will be nice to use it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup feels himself soften a little when Jack turns those shining eyes on him. “Yeah,” he agrees, suddenly a tad breathless, “it will be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack beams and, hands still full of cup, hovers up to plant a burning kiss to Hiccup’s lips. He bites Hiccup’s bottom lip before departing with a laugh, and it takes Hiccup a moment to blink the after image of the shining cup from his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The need for a menagerie becomes abundantly clear when Hiccup finds a cage full of chittering gold and silver birds and a basket housing a fox made out of flame and smoke. It becomes even clearer when he stumbles upon the main cause of the animal noises he was hearing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a quickly assembled pen stand four cows and four bulls. They appear to be in pairs, one cow and one bull to each, and for a moment, Hiccup can only stare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One of the pairs is on fire. Another two are bright blue and breathing clouds of cold steam. One pair is a playful spring green, and the cow is trying to eat the scarce grass growing between the cobblestones while the bull snorts out flower petals. The only ones that look somewhat normal are the pair with mossy brown coats, but upon close inspection, their fur is covered in thousands of leaf-shaped markings in all shades of red, yellow, and orange.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, Jack?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His husband is by his side in an instant, still holding what looks like a gilded book. “Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup gestures vaguely in the cows’ direction, and Jack’s eyes widen when he turns to face them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, I see the Seasonal Courts all sent cattle.” The fiery bull snorts out a cloud of embers, and Jack takes a quick step back. “...Including the Summer Court.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Summer Court’s cattle are all on </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not all,” Jack corrects, still eyeing the smoking bull. “Only the top quality ones.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, good to know they sent us </span>
  <em>
    <span>top quality</span>
  </em>
  <span> fire hazards.” Hiccup gently pulls Jack back a few steps; he doesn’t like the way the summer bull is tossing its head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack goes without protest. “Some form of livestock is traditional,” he says. “We will have to make special pens for them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re gonna need more than a few pens,” Hiccup corrects.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack just nods and takes another step away from the flaming cattle and right into another cage. Its contents hiss at him, and a tiny black paw darts out to swipe at Jack’s skirts. Jack whirls around and frowns at the animal currently trying to attack his dress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who in Faerie would have sent a </span>
  <em>
    <span>black cat?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he asks incredulously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hiccup looks over Jack’s head and, sure enough, contained within the decently sized cage is a massive black cat. Not nearly big enough to be wild, at least, but definitely bigger than the cats Hiccup has occasionally seen wandering the castle. It hisses at them, its piercing gaze an acidic green.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, maybe it’s a special cat?” he offers, then leans down to open the latch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment the door is unbarred, the cat barrels out into clearing. Fur glitters in the sunlight, shifting from soft and downy to scales in an instant. Its body grows ten times its previous size, and a massive black tail nearly knocks over a stack of crates. Midnight black wings block out the sun, and suddenly, they’re staring at a different beast entirely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Jack says, staring directly into the eyes of a dragon, “that is a special cat indeed.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm sorry it took so long to update! Long story short, I got a job! Part time, but it was crazy working retail during the holidays. It's still a bit crazy, but hopefully I'll be able to update more often now!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. In which eggs are discussed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“A </span>
  <em>
    <span>dragon</span>
  </em>
  <span> shows up in our wedding gifts, and the most you can say is that it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>special?!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack blinks up at his husband, then at the massive pile of scales and teeth currently glaring at them. “It is interesting. Dragons have not appeared in the realm of man since before the war.” He gently nudges Hiccup so the prince is standing behind him, putting himself firmly between squishy human flesh and fire breathing animal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup lets him, but grabs Jack’s shoulder before the fae can further approach the dragon. It unfolds its wings and puffs up its chest like a bird trying to appear larger than it actually is. The beast hisses, revealing empty gums that instantly fill with unsheathed fangs the size of daggers, and despite himself, Hiccup is more than a little fascinated. Did the dragon have control over how the teeth retracted? Did they fit into the skull or were they only attached to muscle tissue? Did they fall out and regrow like most animals’?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His musing is interrupted, unfortunately, by the smell of ozone and a high pitched whine as a blue glow starts in the back of the dragon’s throat. Jack glowers at the beast and shoots what Hiccup can only assume to be a snowball into the dragon’s mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dragon gags and hunches over, making retching noises Hiccup knows he will be hearing in his nightmares tonight. The scent of half digested fish fills the air as the dragon spits out the snowball along with a little bit of bile, and Hiccup quickly covers his nose. Blockage removed, the dragon sits back on its haunches and stares at the two of them with what Hiccup thinks might be begrudging respect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack nods and nudges Hiccup back in front of him. “Go make friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup squawks and gapes down at his husband, who continues to nudge him towards the two-ton beast that just threatened to roast them alive. “Why me?! Aren’t you basically indestructible?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack shrugs and shoves Hiccup one last time, then steps back and out of grabbing range. “Yes, but you opened the cage. He is more likely to acknowledge you as a potential ally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, he.” Jack nods towards the dragon and makes a shooing motion with his hands. “Now go and… bond, I suppose. You are good at endearing yourself to dangerous things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you count.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack doesn’t dignify that with an answer, which Hiccup honestly expected. He sighs and turns to face the dragon, who is staring down at him with eyes the sort of green he’s only ever seen in the after images of lightning strikes. Hiccup coughs, clears his throat, and raises a hand in a stilted wave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hi. I’m… I’m Hiccup.” He bends down in the best approximation of a bow he can make without exposing his neck to the beast. “Welcome to Berk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dragon stares at him a moment, then yawns and scratches behind one of its… well, Hiccup thinks they might be ears, but they look more like large nubs. They were certainly expressive like ears, at least. The tail is even more so, flicking and swishing against the ground behind the great beast. A couple boxes get knocked over, but that’s much less of an issue in the grand scheme of things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup clears his throat again and folds his hands in front of his stomach, for lack of anything better to do with them. “I, uh… Should I name you? Do you… already have a name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack snorts behind him, and Hiccup dares to glance in his direction before looking at the dragon again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dragons are intelligent, but do not have the same concept of names, husband,” Jack assures. “By all means, give him one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, okay?” Gods, what name could he even give an actual dragon? It wasn’t like an invention or a sword; this was a massive, incredibly dangerous animal that hadn’t shown up in at least a few centuries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dragon flicks out his tongue, and Hiccup follows the movement to the mouth and the strange, empty gums. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Toothless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can practically feel Jack’s unimpressed stare against the back of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Husband, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> teeth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Th-They’re retractable, though!” Hiccup points out near desperately. He thought up a name, and he was sticking with it, damn it! Besides, he doubts he’ll be able to find a better one on short notice, unless the dragon prefers being named after any of the other weird gifts scattered around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>beside the point, </span>
  </em>
  <span>husband,” Jack insists. “You cannot name a dragon </span>
  <em>
    <span>Toothless.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The dragon in question chirps and turns his face to Jack with a curious purr. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup bursts into laughter. “He seems to like it!” He grins and shuffles into the dragon’s view. “Toothless!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, another curious purr, and the dragon is facing him. Hiccup’s grin gets even wider. Beside him, Jack pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do I even bother?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup doesn’t bother answering and instead takes a few cautious steps closer to the dragon, who watches him warily but doesn’t shift into a protective stance. Hiccup extends a hand, palm up, for the beast to sniff, and after a long moment, Toothless bends his head and obliges. Nostrils the width of Hiccup’s hand flare, and a scaly nose brushes against his fingers before scales abruptly shift to fur and the dragon is replaced with a cat once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Said cat chirps once, flicks his tail, and trots off into the maze of boxes and crates, leaving Hiccup slumping with relief. He lets out a sigh, then spins on his heel and hooks his arm through Jack’s. His husband obligingly pats his arm when Hiccup offers a shaky smile .</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, excellent job. Now come along; we still have presents to sort.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reminder of the sheer amount of strange, magical, and/or overly extravagant gifts makes Hiccup deflate a little, but his smile doesn’t fully fade even as Jack drags him over to a wardrobe that promptly insults Hiccup’s fashion sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They continue to spot Toothless as they sort through gifts and send them to appropriate new homes. He’s perching on a golden bench that warms and cools itself to perfect comfort level, then he’s staring down at them from the top of a stack of heavy cloaks made from long extinct beasts, then he’s peeking out from an urn inscribed with moving images of a particularly lewd story. He moves on as soon as each item is sent on its way, only to appear again a few minutes later. Eventually, Jack sighs and scoops up the dragon-turned-cat and plops him on Hiccup’s shoulder like a parrot from an old pirate story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There. Now you can watch </span>
  <em>
    <span>without</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting in the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Toothless is apparently agreeable to this, as he stays there as they send singing portraits to be hung in empty hallways and self-playing instruments to stay in the treasury until the time comes for them to show off. He momentarily takes off to bat at the shining cages of several jeweled butterflies, but quickly returns and meows until Hiccup sets him on his shoulder again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have legs?” he asks the dragon, and is only answered with a yawn that smells strongly of ozone and fish. Hiccup quickly learns that that is not a good scent combination and has to take a few seconds to suppress his gag reflex. Jack and Toothless are both unmoved by his plight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He has shifted forms twice,” Jack points out as he inspects a gown Hiccup thinks might be made of spider silk. “Such endeavors require much energy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was following us just fine before,” Hiccup points out. He leans over Jack’s shoulder to peer at the gown’s embroidery, but doesn’t move to touch it. He’s not sure if it will be sticky or not, and he’d rather not find out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Irrelevant.” Jack nods and flicks his wrist, and the gown flies off on its own, presumably to Jack’s single, apparently bottomless chest. He straightens and dusts imaginary dirt off his immaculate skirt, then loops his arm through Hiccup’s again. “Magic takes effort, and he is not particularly heavy. You will survive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup snorts and shifts the shoulder not currently bearing a good fifteen pounds of fur and muscle. “Speak for yourself.” He’s already straining a bit, not to mention the sweat. Apparently carrying a pile of fur on your shoulder made said shoulder overheat. Hiccup was tempted to roll his shoulder to at least get the now damp, itchy fabric to move, but he didn’t want to disturb Toothless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack rolls his eyes, but bumps his head against Hiccup’s arm at the same time Toothless nudges his cheek, and suddenly the weight of the cat feels almost nonexistent. Still overly warm, but much easier to handle. Jack blinks those wide, pupil-less eyes at him and smiles almost softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup’s throat closes slightly, and he lets out a high-pitched squeak before nodding and pulling his husband towards the next pile of gifts. There was still plenty to sort through, and he could worry about his accelerated heartbeat later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time dinner rolls around, they’ve managed to send about a third of the gifts and dowry off to their set places and gathered the various </span>
  <em>
    <span>living</span>
  </em>
  <span> gifts in one collection of corrals and cages in the middle of the courtyard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The seasonal cattle have gotten their fill of the grass peeking between the cobblestones and have moved on to lowing quietly at the slowly darkening sky, while the glass peacock struts between clattering enclosures and flicks its glittering tail at the gold and silver songbirds that serenade its passing. The fox made of flame and smoke amuses itself by watching the fluttering jewel butterflies. Baby Tooth emerges from wherever she had sequestered herself and tucks her tiny, feathered body into the crook of Jack’s neck. Toothless watches the goings on from Hiccup’s shoulder and purrs like a tiny rock slide in his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to need some kind of zoo,” Hiccup sighs as a pair of winged rabbits settle by his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack chuckles and rests his cheek against Hiccup’s upper arm. “We will figure something out, husband. All will be well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, Hiccup believes him.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Morning finds Hiccup with loud, insistent meowing in his ear and sunshine in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The former, he discovers, is coming from his newly acquired cat, who is perched on the windowsill and meowing at the glowing horizon as mournfully as a sailor’s widow. His large, black paws press insistently against the glass, and Hiccup resists the urge to groan and bury his face in his pillow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m up, I’m up,” he moans as he rolls out of bed and directly onto the fae currently flopped across the rug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Hiccup and Jack yelp, and Hiccup scrambles off of his husband with no small amount of flustered apologies. Jack scrubs at his eyes and gives Hiccup what might be a pout if he wasn’t still sprawled on the admittedly warm rug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup blinks down at him. “Uh… what are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack gives him a withering look and spreads out even more. “I am enjoying our new rug, husband. What else would I be doing on the floor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, Hiccup didn’t really have an answer for that, so he just gets to his feet and pads over to the still meowing cat. “Are you… asking to be let out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Toothless flicks his tail and meows even louder. Hiccup sighs and unlatches the damn window, and the cat launches himself into the cool morning air before Hiccup can even blink. Fur shifts, muscle contorts, and a black dragon flies into the burgeoning dawn. Hiccup rubs the sleep seeds from his eyes and goes to put on pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack watches him dress from the floor, his silver gown pooling around him like a shining river. He keeps his cheek pressed to the softly glowing fibers of the rug, contorting his body to keep Hiccup in sight as he moves around the room. In Hiccup’s mind, Jack moves more like a cat than Toothless does, though Toothless admittedly subscribed to the novel idea of bones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the sunshine rug, right?” Hiccup asks as he combs his hair back into a loose ponytail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you mean the rug woven from sunbeams, then yes,” Jack says, twisting his torso nearly all the way around to meet Hiccup’s eyes. He hums contentedly and stretches his arms above his head, and Hiccup quickly looks away when the motion reveals a sliver of collarbone. “It was sent by one of the minor Summer courts, I believe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup hums, still not looking at his husband, and grabs an apple from the breakfast tray. Jack’s bowl is empty, thankfully, so he won’t need to suffer through slurping today. “Where’s Baby Tooth?” He remembered the little sprite settling on Jack’s lap before Hiccup fell asleep the night before, but she was nowhere in sight now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack gestures up to the rafters. “She has decided to take her meal aloft.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup glances up and, sure enough, spots a blob of bright green feathers merrily seated among the rafters. He squints and is just able to make out a piece of what he thinks might be a roll in her hands. “I, uh, I thought fae didn’t like human food?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby Tooth is less picky than I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup snorts and scoops some eggs onto his plate. “Well, we can’t all have your refined palate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, such a shame, that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup glares over his shoulder, and Jack gives him a wide, shit-eating grin. Hiccup snorts and turns back to his meal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re such a brat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> brat, husband,” Jack singsongs, and Hiccup quickly pretends that he isn’t blushing up to his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After breakfast, Jack shoos him into the bathroom to change, then drags him out to finish sorting the wedding presents. The entrance hall is thankfully empty, though the scent of spices and something oddly floral still lingers in the air, and the courtyard, while still crowded, is significantly less overwhelming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The various living gifts, sans Toothless, are still settled in their temporary pens, and Hiccup notes that someone had the forethought to set up food and water for all of them. The glass peacock has since taken up residence in the seasonal cows’ water trough, for some reason, while the rest of the menagerie slowly goes about some semblance of a morning routine. Jack sets Baby Tooth free to do as she will, then loops his arm through Hiccup’s and pulls him towards the next pile of gifts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some of the presents, at least, were given by regular humans, and Hiccup is relieved to see a wheel of perfectly normal cheese and a pair of fine boots among the chaos. He’s slightly less relieved when he finds a glittering duckling in one of the boots, which Jack gently sends back to the gleaming flock gathered by the fountain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Babies,” Jack says fondly as the tiny creature toddles off. “Never listen to anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even royalty?” Hiccup asks, and Jack barks out a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Especially</span>
  </em>
  <span> royalty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re about halfway through a group of statues apparently made of pure ice when Hiccup notices the distinct lack of green feathers and happy chatter. He turns to Jack, who is currently inspecting an icy knight, and calls him over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’d Toothiana go?” he asks once Jack floats over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fae tilts his head, and his eyebrows slant ever so slightly down. “Home, I suspect. She was merely delivering, after all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup blinks. “Oh. I, uh, I guess I thought she’d stick around. You didn’t get much time with her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack shrugs and turns away before Hiccup has a chance to decipher his expression. “We conversed after you fell asleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup watches the tense line of his husband’s shoulders and frowns. He touches Jack’s elbow, and the fae startles and turns wide eyes on him. Hiccup jerks back slightly, the silk of Jack’s sleeve slipping over his fingers like water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s, uh, it’s okay to be upset,” he says. He keeps his eyes on Jack’s ear, rather than his eyes. It made attempting words a bit easier. “That you weren’t able to spend time with your friend, I mean. Or… that she left so quickly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack blinks up at him for a long moment, then huffs a soft laugh and pats Hiccup’s cheek. “You are fascinating, my prince,” he hums, then darts up to kiss the corner of Hiccup’s mouth. He smiles up at him one more time, then turns back to the statues.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup stares at his back for a moment, then hesitantly does the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sorting isn’t as quick as it was with Toothiana flitting in the background, but they still make decent headway. A pair of servants come to lead the eight strange cattle off to a temporary barn around midmorning, and three maids are able to awkwardly shepherd the glass peacock into the gardens. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The courtyard is significantly quieter by the time Jack requests lunch be sent over, and they settle on the edge of the fountain to wait. A few of the glittering ducks glance at them, but otherwise pay them no mind. A couple of ducklings awkwardly paddle through the water, though Hiccup has no idea how they got up the fountain in the first place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack trails his hand through the flowing water, and tiny specks of ice appear and disappear in the wake of his fingers. One of the ducklings pecks at his knuckles, and he laughs and gently pushes it away. Hiccup watches the moment, unsure if he should break the silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They like you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack startles slightly and blinks up at him, a tiny frown pulling at the edges of his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup nods to the quietly quacking ducklings, still clumsily paddling under the watchful eye of the flock. “Baby things. They like you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack chuckles softly and bumps Hiccup with his knee. “Most fae like children, husband.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup bumps him back. “That’s not what I said, though,” he admonishes. His gaze flicks to the ducklings, but when he extends his hand, they ignore him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack frowns and gently lifts a duckling out of the water and into his lap. The fluffy little thing peeps cheerily at him, then settles in the crease between his legs with all the satisfaction a glittering duck is capable of. “I… suppose they do,” he says, very slowly, like he’s not quite sure of the words. He pets the top of the duckling’s head with one finger, and it playfully nips him. He tilts his head and hums. “I am not using any kind of glamour on them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you use glamour on the kids earlier this week?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack shakes his head. “Other than a little extra joy in the snow, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup bumps Jack with his knee, and the duckling peeps as the motion jostles it. “Then they like you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack hums and strokes gently down the duckling’s back. “Before the wedding, I did not have much chance to interact with human children,” he admits. “My mother never saw the need, and the Winter Court is not hospitable for humans anyway. So, when I saw Sophie…” He chuckles softly, and the very tips of his pointed ears blush blue. “...I got a bit excited.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup’s heart stutters in his chest, and he can feel a wide, silly grin splitting his face. “So </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> why you were so happy to see her!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack barks out a laugh and shoves Hiccup’s shoulder, though, Hiccup notes, not strongly enough to actually move him. “Be quiet! It was a perfectly understandable reaction!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup laughs. “I never said it wasn’t!” The duckling quacks, and Hiccup’s smile softens. “You’d make a good parent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reaches out and strokes the duckling’s soft, sparkling head, and when he sits back, Jack is staring at him with eyes wider than should really be possible. Hiccup stares back for a moment, then his words come rushing back, and he blushes redder than the ruby songbirds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, I-I didn’t… I mean, you’re so good with them, a-and…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack grabs him by the ears and pulls him into a bruising kiss, which is likely for the best since it cuts off Hiccup’s rambling. Jack pulls back both too quickly and not soon enough, leaving Hiccup bruised and gasping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is… a discussion for another day,” Jack says, quickly averting his eyes. He brushes a lock of hair behind his ear, and if Hiccup squints a little, he’d say Jack looks a bit bluer than before. The fae clears his throat and places the duckling back in the fountain. “Lunch is running late; I will go and fetch it.” He flees the courtyard in a rush of skirts before Hiccup can get in a word edgewise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup stares after him, gaping like a dying fish, for longer than he’d like to admit. Finally, he blinks away his stupor, wipes his reddened lips on his sleeve, and watches the glass peacock prance its way through the last few stacks of boxes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack returns eventually, looking much more put together and guiding a heavily laden tray through the air in front of him, and the scent of freshly baked bread and grilled turkey is distracting enough that Hiccup lets the incident slip from his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The afternoon is spent the same as the morning: sorting, identifying, and occasionally having to call Jack to deal with wayward ducks or other mischievous beings. Baby Tooth flutters overhead now and then, chittering happily as she brushes past Jack’s cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Toothless appears a while before sunset and settles his entire dragon body on top of a heavy chest full of what looks like felted balls. Luckily, that chest was already sorted, so Hiccup pats the dragon on the flank and sets to helping a group of servants lift a fiery chandelier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack loops his arm through Hiccup’s an hour or two after sunset. “All has been organized, husband,” he chirps as he pulls Hiccup away from the last stack of boxes and into the castle. “It is time for food and rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, Hiccup isn’t about to protest when the idea of dinner and bed seems like heaven after being on his feet all day, so he obligingly allows his husband to haul him through the castle and up to their quarters. If Jack notices how much Hiccup is yawning, he doesn’t say anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner is already waiting for them, and Hiccup barely takes the time to take off his shoes before filling a plate and tucking in. Jack watches him from his apparently now permanent perch on the other couch, silent but for the slight shifting of fabric when he moves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Halfway through Hiccup’s meal, Jack breaks the silence. “Did you truly mean what you said?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup blinks at him and hastily swallows his mouthful of vegetables. “Uh, which thing I said? I say a lot of things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack hums and pulls a pillow into his lap. “About me being a good parent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” The flush rises back to Hiccup’s cheeks, and he clears his throat and puts down his fork. “I, um… yes? You’re… good with kids, a-and they like you, and… you like them? Right?” He gestures loosely at Jack, who blinks slowly at him. Hiccup chuckles anxiously and stares down at his plate. “And… we’ll, uh, we’ll need to have a kid at some point, right?” A king’s job included preserving the royal line, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But how would you choose to make them?” Jack cuts in, and Hiccup stares for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How would you choose to make them?” Jack repeats. He kneads the pillow in his lap a few times, leaving tiny pinpricks from his nails in the plush fabric. “I am a being of pure magic and chaos; we could produce an heir the way humans do, or I could lay an egg, or make one the way I was made, or-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, the way you were made?” Hiccup interrupts, deciding to leave the egg question unasked for now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack blinks owlishly at him. “Do you really think my mother, the Winter Queen, She Who Sees the Unseen, requires a mate to create offspring?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup flushes a little darker. “W-Well, when you put it like that…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A star.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiccup flounders for a moment. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was made from a star.” Jack shrugs one shoulder and looks down at the pillow. His hair covers his eyes from this angle, and it’s harder to decipher his expression through the snowy curtain. “A star, the first snow of a full moon solstice, and my mother’s blood. My siblings are the same, though with different stars and different solstices. Fae need not be made the same way humans are.” He tilts his head up slightly, and Hiccup can see the gleam of his eyes through his bangs. “Though your way is an option.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The implication isn’t lost on Hiccup, and he quickly looks away, as if averting his gaze would hide anything from Jack. “Oh. And, uh, the… egg thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Also a possibility. It is really up to you, though I doubt you’d enjoy the process of making a child my mother’s way.” Jack makes a soft, almost amused sound. “It requires quite a lot of blood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, that took care of Hiccup’s blush, at least. He can feel himself paling, and he quickly shakes his head. “Let’s, uh, let’s shelve that idea for now. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack chuckles softly. “As you wish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Hiccup falls into bed that night, he dreams of massive eggs.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alas, my brain is goo and thus every update seems to take forever. I hope this satisfies those of you still bothering to read it! I'm not abandoning this story, ever, so y'all are stuck with me.</p><p>The end to this chapter was finished around Easter, pre beta. Oddly fitting considering a certain topic of conversation.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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